Son of the archer and The Boy Who Lived
by Melancholy's Sunshine
Summary: Second in Son of the Archer series. Ron is off on his own "quest" for the first time away from his adoptive father Clint Barton where he meets the famed Harry Potter and takes the first steps on a wild journey of magic, chaos and a dark lord. Main characters include Weasleys, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Harry and Clint.
1. Until I see you again

**Hello to all. This is the second installment of the Son of the Archer series. If you have read the Son of the Archer, feel free to proceed into the following story. If not, I highly suggest you go and check out Son of the Archer. Otherwise I am afraid you will be horribly confused as to what is going on.**

 **Anywho... On with the story.**

One would say that the day was seemingly perfect. The air was warm but not hot, the soft breeze was cooler, but not cold. The ground was soft from prior rain and the grass recently dried with seldom seen puddles. The sun shone from its daily peak. Parents were rushing about preparing to take children to school the next day for many of them. It was an unusually beautiful and clear day in Britian with not a cloud visible for miles.

Ron couldn't bring himself to enjoy it however, as tomorrow, he would be attending Hogwarts' school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, leaving his family behind in America until June. He was just trying so hard to keep his dad close with his final day together. Red rimmed blue eyes hid on Clint's shoulder as his dad held an arm around him, his hand stroking his hair calmly out of his face, as they sat outside his squatter's tent.

"Promise me you'll try and enjoy school Ron," his dad whispered. Ron didn't take an insult to it. He had heard from agents time and time again, there were moments that were unavoidable. Hindsight was just a petty excuse. No one ever knew everything. So his dad asking him to make the best of it, was not all that surprising. It still didn't make the pain in his heart go away.

"I'll try dad. Hey, can we play a game?" he asked. It was an obvious attempt to change the subject. Clint gave a large smile and lifted Ron's head from his shoulder. Sometimes, he seemed so grown up, but he really was still just an eleven year old boy. One that needed playtime and games as much as life lessons and math classes.

"Sure. What do you want to play?"

"Assasin?" he asked innocently. Clint couldn't help but snort. Assasin. He doubted the Weasleys would be alright with them trying to put marks on each other's body. But he did have the markers...

What could he say? He was incredibly immature.

"I don't think you have the right tools to be an effective Assasin," he stated with mock seriousness. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You keep your sharpies in your bag."

"That may or may not be true," Clint responded. He really needed to think of a new hiding place for those... Oh what did he care? He would probably keep putting them there and just make himself a sandwich. Speaking of which...

"Last one there- ack!" Ron began as he was scooped off the ground and held above the ground in a bridal carry from his dad. He looked up with amused indignation. Clint gave an impish smirk.

"Last one there what Ron?"

"Oh come on dad! I can walk!"

Clint's eyes strayed for a brief moment to the eldest brothers who came running down to Clint and Ron, their wands in easy reach. He looked back at Ron and began walking calmly to the Weasley residence. Charlie and Bill slowed down and stared hard at Clint who merely gave a sarcastic grin to them both.

"Charles, William," he greeted walking past. Charlie's eyes widened and his face flushed red in embarrassment as Bill shrugged off the name. He had been called William plenty often by the goblins. Ron snickered at Charlie's indignation as he was carried toward the Burrow's front door. He placed Ron down on the ground allowing him to walk inside. As it was, Clint was not allowed inside the Weasley home. Damn magic barrier.

"Go get yourself a sandwich Ron. You need to keep your blood sugar up."

Ron stuck his tongue out chilidishly at his dad, but darted into the Weasley kitchen, out of sight when Clint turned to face the oldest of the Weasley boys.

"Gentlemen," he acknowledged.

"Mr. Barton," Bill responded curtly. Charlie's face was still lightly stained red as he stood tall next to his brother.

"Did you really have to carry our brother like that?" Charlie asked. Clint smiled.

"He's getting pretty big. I don't think I'll be able to do that for much longer," he responded with slight sadness in his voice. Bill wouldn't be surprised if the man held a grudge against them. He knew that they did for the years he had stolen from them by taking Ron. But he couldn't bring himself to hate the man. He had explained how he had saved Ron from what the court assumed to be Bellatrix LeStrange, a convicted Death Eater.

"I think he can walk on his own," Charlie replied giving his brother a look. Clint recognized it. So Charlie was the younger one eh?

"So Billy boy here picked you up often dragon breath?"

It was Bill's turn to look embarrassed over the name as Charlie snorted.

"What makes you think that?"

"You're the one defending Ron from being carried. And being the tallest does not mean you're the oldest," Clint stated simply, poking Charlie's cheek. Both Hogwart's graduates looked over Clint in surprise at his apparent casual attempted interaction.

* * *

Ron didn't know where exactly everyone else was inside the Burrow, but he didn't fancy running into them and wasting his time with his dad. He scoured the room for bread, lettuce, meat and cheese as he began to craft a filling sandwich that wouldn't have his dad making him march back inside for more.

He was cutting some chicken he had found in the... Well he was certain it was a fridge, if not a bit out dated, when a voice spooked him.

"Oh Ronald are you hungry? You should have told me," a quick maternal voice broke the silence. Ron jumped and whipped his head around. His eyes widened before returning to a somewhat relaxed expression.

"Oh. I didn't want to bother you-"

"Not a bother at all dear. Let me fix you something right up. You are much too thin-"

Ron could only blink as she bustled around the room pulling pots and pans along with loads of spices and herbs, a variety of meat, vegetables, and broth soon took up her counter space. He had to give her credit where credit was due though, she knew her way around the kitchen with her magic, even if she seemed to only know how to cook for an army considering the amount of food she was making.

"It's fine. Really. I already made myself a sandwich so I'm good-"

"I was thinking Roast beef, how does that sound?"

"Uh, fine I guess-"

"Good, I'll have it right ready in a moment."

"-for... Dinner. Alright then."

Ron was more than a little miffed on how he was being ignored. It was a wonder that everyone didn't just do exactly as she said. He recalled the discussion on cutting both Bill and Charlie's hair at the first breakfast together and wondered how they hadn't been cowed to have shorter hair, when she seemed so demanding. Even his Aunt Tasha wasn't quite that demanding in domestic life. Hell, he knew if his Aunt told him to cut his hair, he would have done it. Then again he knew what she was capable of, domestic or not.

He looked at the growing amount of food in alarm. She was going to make sure he ate a large portion he was sure of it. So the real question was what to do with the sandwich. It took him less than a minute to come to a decision. He walked out of the kitchen quietly and opened the door to see his dad arm wrestling with Charlie, both trying to take the other one down but there was no budging. Ron cocked a brow wondering both how they began to arm wrestle, and why his dad hadn't cheated yet.

He knew his dad wasn't super strong. But he was rather strong with archery being his favored means of attack and defense. That paired with the fact that he was not above cheating made Ron a bit surprised when he didn't seem to be making any moves to cheat. A genuine effort to be nice to his biological siblings?

It didn't matter too much to Ron. But he did want his dad to beat Charlie. He slid over quietly, avoiding Bill's gaze who was focused on the spectacle. Ron stood behind Charlie with a slight grin. He placed the plate down for a moment and leaned in close to Charlie. With a devious idea set in motion, he screamed. The reaction was instantaneous as Charlie flinched, lost his focus and had his hand slammed down onto the outdoor table. Clint ignored the victory and stood tall, his eyes locking with his grinning son, only to realize what Ron had done. His face contorted to an impish grin as he reached over and patted Ron's shoulder. Bill, once initially spooked, relaxed seeing his youngest brother do what Fred and George often did to Percy when he was studying.

"Nice one Ron," Clint laughed. Charlie pouted realizing he was subjected to a jump scare.

"Very funny. You're hilarious Ron," Charlie commented rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless.

"I know," Ron replied, "Hungry dad?"

Ron ignored the pained look that appeared on Charlie's face as well as the emotionless stony appearance Bill held with the comment.

"I might be. Ron did you actually eat?" Clint questioned eyeing the sandwich. Ron's face did it's best to turn stony had it not been for the mirth in his eyes,

"I fear for my stomach if I do. Someone's in the kitchen cooking up a storm."

"Ah. Mum doesn't like when others work in the kitchen. She takes a lot of pride in her cooking," Charlie admitted. Clint nodded sagely.

"With as many kids as she does, she or your dad would have to."

* * *

Days passed, often with Clint narrowly avoiding the Weasley parents. He had spoken briefly with each of the progeny, with different levels of success. Bill and Charlie seemed to hold him at arms' length, not getting any closer, yet not getting any further. Their maturity shined as they had left their home for their own pursuits and passions, growing them in ways their parents couldn't. They acknowledged that as much as Ron would be in their life, it seemed Clint would be by extension. Fred, George, and Ginny were contrary, always pulling Ron inside when they could. Saying they had to ask him questions about what he wanted packed. Of course Ron never had a say in it considering he was dragged away before he could say anything to dissuade them.

Percy however was the enigma of the Weasley brood. He seemed to distance himself, referring to their situation as if it were a historical textbook moment. It was a pleasant surprise for Ron who didn't have an additional brother breathing down his or his dad's neck. Perhaps it was his personality. A distant mindset. But Ron didn't mind it. Neither did Clint. Ron didn't mind when he tried to be a big brother either when he gave him his pet rat Scabbers. While an old fat rat was the last pet he would want, he always did want pet. Eh, beggars couldn't be choosers.

* * *

"I look ridiculous," Ron bemoaned as he looked at himself in the mirror. Molly had woken everyone up early on a surprisingly pleasant September first, having them all dress in clothes she had picked out for them. Each boy was wearing black slacks, a white button up shirt with what appeared to be a hand knit sweater. Ginny had a nice fall dress, with her hair pulled back in a red and gold themed hair band.

Ron on the other hand was stuck in his brother's hand me downs. He didn't have enough clothes from the plan of a short trip to England, and there seemed to be no way that Molly would let him wear anything that Clint or Tony gave him except his underwear.

So he was wearing pants, a good inch too short from one of his elder siblings, a pair of Fred's socks, one of George's old button up shirts, and one of Percy's old sweater vests they found in a trunk somewhere they hadn't gotten rid of. In short, he looked like a hand me down stitch doll. He really wished he was allowed to wear his own clothes his dad had gotten for him. Lord knows that half the clothing in his trunk would probably be too long or too short on him. Wasn't there some sort of magic to fix this?

"You look dapper. Just like your brothers Ron," Molly reassured, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, either not noticing or ignoring how Ron tensed at the contact. Her lips were a bit less chapped than his dad's. And there was a lack of warm lipstick his Aunt Tasha often wore that would mark his cheek. She felt different. Softer in a way. Maybe it was because she was a stay at home mom?

"Now, your brothers are all waiting outside for us. I'll be out in a moment with Ginny and your father," she spoke quickly, guiding him to the door. Ron didn't grumble that his dad was outside and not inside the house. Even if the tent was picked up and packed away, with his dad giving a night goodbye before leaving on a SHIELD mission. While he was a bit disappointed his dad wouldn't see him off, he understood the need for his dad to begin his mission.

With a sigh, he stepped outside and met his older brothers. Bill and Charlie greeted him with warm smiles, Percy was focused on retrieving his Prefect badge from the twins running around the yard. They had all been gathered around an old blue Ford Angila. Oddly small for such a large family. And it was no where near as awe inspiring magesty of his Uncle Phil's Lola.

"Excited Ron?" Bill asked. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"I am glad I'll get to be with Mione and Neville," Ron answered.

"It's always good to start a year off with friends," Charlie tacked on as Fred tossed the badge to Fred, narrowly avoiding Percy's grasp. Ron furrowed his brows. He had seen magic do wonderful things. But there wasn't a spell or something that could just grab the badge? He had asked aloud to his bemused brothers.

"Sure there is. But underage magic is illegal. Percy isn't one to break rules for something as simple as this," Bill explained.

"That and I'm sure he gets a kick out of it when he actually can catch them before mum and dad get out here," Charlie chuckled.

Ron didn't ask anything more and just took in the hijinks that ensued from his other brothers. He took in the twins moving in tandem to avoid Percy. He watched as Percy nearly cornered them with his intelligence and a swath of cunning. It didn't take long for the parents and Ginny to come outside and see the chase. Molly pulled out her wand and murmured a spell, catching the badge in air, and lowering it to Percy's hands.

"Come along boys. We don't want to miss the train," she spoke, walking to the car. Ron's face contorted to confusion. How were they all going to fit in that small car? He felt a nudge to his side making him jump a little. His head whipped and saw one of the twins with a smile, "Don't worry. It's bigger on the inside. Promise."

Ron gave a small smile as the memories of his Auntuncle FitzSimmons watching hours of Doctor Who together when they weren't needed in the lab while his dad was on missions. ' _It's bigger on the inside, one day I will figure out how to do that. Then I'll have a sock drawer that can actually hold all my socks.'_

His smile faltered as they piled in one by one. Outside the car was just him and the twins. One twin stepped into the surely crowded car when his wrist was grabbed and he was pulled in after, followed by the other twin. He blinked seeing the entirety of the Weasleys he knew sitting in the old Ford. He looked surprise. For all intent and purpose, it was still the same appearance and feel of a car, just... Expanded. And being sandwiched between the twins only made the moment more surreal. There was little to be said on personal space, especially when it came to the twins who had draped their arms over Ron's shoulders casually.

"Charming-"

"-a true pleasure-"

"-Nay, an honor-!"

"Yes, an honor having you join us in this lovely drive," Fred and George spoke quickly with slightly insane grins on their faces. Ron didn't get to say anything before the car turned on and they began moving forward. He could hear his Uncle Phil whisper in his mind to remember to buckle his seatbelt before going anywhere. He scrambled near his waist and grabbed the nylon belt and brought it over his lap buckling with a soft clink sound to ensure he was secure.

It seemed pointless though with a minute later each belt magically secured itself around the individual in each seat. He pointedly ignored the twins' knowing grins as they continued the ride. The drive itself was pleasant. Smooth and the car seemed well taken care of despite not being nearly as dashing as Lola. Though the chatter and the view of the countryside melting into city was obscured by one of the twins. It was maybe an hour drive before they parked, rather poorly Ron noted as they poured out of the vehicle. Ron looked up, rather shocked not to see some hidden and obscure location away from the general public, but rather, stand outside of a rather well known station, King's Cross. It wasn't quite like Grand Central Station when he visited back when he was five with his Uncle Phil. Granted, he wasn't there too long as they were just scouting a promising potential agent, but he still remembered the grandeur.

"C'mon Ron, let's get inside," Ginny spoke excitedly. She grabbed his sleeve and began walking in next to Molly with everyone else following with the copious amount of luggage.

They walked as a fast moving a tightly knit group as they made it further inside.

" _Now do you remember the platform we go to-?"_

 _"9 and 3/4 mum can't I go?" Ginny asked._

 _"You're not old enough Ginny, now be quiet,"_ Molly paused as they arrived at the platform that had ten on one side and nine on the other, " _All right Percy, you first."_

Ron stood back as he saw Percy run toward the brick column only to vanish without a trace.

"Magic barrier," Bill stated, "keeps muggles from boarding accidentally."

"Uh huh," Ron nodded as Molly was tricked by the twins on who would go first. Both vanished back to back followed by Arthur who had Ron's luggage when a stranger approached them. Ron froze taking in the jet black hair and bright green eyes attached to a lanky frame. _Loki,_ a cruel voice whispered in his head. He pushed the thought away though. He had seen Loki for only the briefest of moments when he had been taken off of Earth as Thor's prisoner and Asgard's responsibility. He couldn't be back. This was just a boy with unfortunate hair and eye color.

" _Excuse me,_ " he began rather shyly. His accent struck Ron as a thicker British than the Weasleys.

" _Hello dear, first time at Hogwarts? Ron's new too,_ " she gestured towards Ron. The dark haired boy smiled at Ron, who just gave a reassuring grin despite his own nervousness. Raw innocence and wonder seemed to permeate from him as his attention returned to Molly.

" _Yes. The thing is- the thing is, I don't know how to-"_

" _How to get onto the platform? Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."_

"I can go with you if you're nervous," Bill volunteered noticing Harry's nervousness as he prepared. Bright green eyes stared at Bill as if he had offered him a gift. Ron's brows furrowed at the look. What was it?

"Ah, thanks. But I think I'll be fine," he said readying himself. He took off towards the barrier and vanished just like his brothers had.

"Alright Ron you're next," Molly spoke. Charlie grabbed his hand before he could say anything.

"Let's go Ron, the train won't wait for you."

Charlie pushed Ron forward, walking closely behind him, still holding on as they moved faster towards the column. Ron closed his eyes as his brother moved him onward. There was a muted noise before erupting into loud chaos. He opened his eyes to see hundreds of people in front of him surrounding a large steam powered train. He took a few steps forward with Charlie as Molly and Bill stepped through.

"Ron!"

"Neville!" Ron gasped as he ran toward his friend's voice with Charlie hot on his heels. He didn't go far though as Neville had popped out of the crowd with his mom and who Ron assumed to his grandmother hot on his heels. Ron threw open his arms and gave Neville a quick hug that was quickly received and returned. As short as it was, it was enough. They let go as their families surrounded them.

"Alice," Molly curtly greeted, a slight sharpness to her tone.

"Molly," she responded with a more distant and sad tone.

"Is this your friend Neville?" The older woman asked. She was slightly withered, though stood tall. She had a certain green and gray dress with a large and quite hideous vulture like hat on her head.

"Yes gran. This is Ron."

"Ah the Barton boy," she commented filling Ron with surprise and respect for the elder woman.

"He's my son Augusta. Ron is a Weasley," Molly defended with her children nodding. Arthur watched on standing with his wife. Augusta gave them a look before staring back at Ron.

"Blood means a lot, but I have met other men who I would call my brothers. Men who I mourned their passing as if they were my own flesh and blood. Now the man who raised you was a Barton?"

"Yes ma'am," Ron answered respectively.

"Then I don't see why you can't be both Barton and Weasley," she said to silence Molly. Ron gave the woman a grin. She gave a slight twitch of her own lips and turned her attention elsewhere.

"Your grandma is awesome," Ron whispered to Neville.

"She can be. Even if she did try and trick magic out of me when I was younger. Made mum real mad. What about your grandma?"

"I never knew her. She and her husband died in a car accident."

Neville looked confused but didn't ask any questions as the group grew bigger with Hermione and Bruce appearing on the scene.

"Ron! Neville!" Hermione greeted with a grin. Ron gave a grin and opened his arms as she accepted the hug. Neville joined in much to the parents and brothers amusement. Ginny looked a bit off put. Her brothers wouldn't hug anyone else their age when they went off to Hogwarts.

"Hey Mione. Bruce," Ron greeted.

"Hullo Hermione. Doctor Banner," Neville added.

"Oh you're a doctor? Well I have a concern about this bunion-"

"Ah, I'm not that kind of Doctor," Bruce interrupted Augusta. She gave him a surly glare.

"Then what kind of doctor are you?"

"The sciency kind," Hermione spoke up, "He studies gamma radiation."

Ron was certain she would say no when the train whistled, indicating a last call.

"Oh hurry. Can't have you all missing the train," Molly instructed guiding them to the train. The gaggle of students walked toward the train when Alice placed her hand on Ron's shoulder. She casually looked over towards another door to board where someone stood waiting in a worn black and purple jacket with a hood pulled up. His own curiousity had him walk toward the entrance and the man. The man raised his head slightly. A peach fuzzed face and a warm smile greeted him. Eyes that sparkled with humor and melancholy. Ron gasped recognizing his face, tears pooling in his eyes. He wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. He felt chapped lips kiss his temple as his dad lowered to see eye to eye.

"I thought you had to go on a mission," Ron choked trying not to cry.

"I do. Fury's got a plane waiting for me."

"Then why are you-?"

"Because my greatest mission in life, is having you as a son," he whispered just loud enough for Ron to hear, "There was no way I was going to miss seeing you off. It's just like your first day of kindergarten. You'll have to tell me all about it."

"I'll send you letters as often as I can."

"And I'll catch the bird before it leaves so you can get one too," Clint promised, "Now," he said taking out a small box, "Take this. Strange and Natasha insisted you have them at Hogwarts."

Ron opened the box to see his gloves Strange had given him before. He gave his dad a questioning look.

"But I won't be able to-"

A shrill whistle broke through the air. Clint spoke quickly. Pulling something else out. A chain of sorts, and slipped it over Ron's head.

"There is a letter inside to explain. We'll chat later. And I will see you back here in May."

Ron stepped onto the train and yelled out, "Goodbye!"

"Not goodbye!" Clint yelled back, "Just til we meet again!"

Ron smiled as the train picked up speed, his tears finally falling from his eyes. He looked at his box of gloves, quickly closing them and slipping them into his pocket. He reached to his neck where his dad placed the chain. The cool metal didn't really tell a lot so he looked down to see his Aunt Tasha's necklace. Or at least, a replica of one. A simple silver chain and arrow she had taken to wearing about four years prior when she was on extended missions away from her favorite partner of vice versa.

He chuckled at the memory of her removing the necklace as soon as he returned with him walking in just as she threw it in her dresser.

"Eh! There he is!"

"Well I do believe you're right."

Ron recognized those voices. He had been living with them for about a while now so it wasn't too hard to recognize the twins. He looked over and was startled by their close proximity. He wasn't surprised when they placed their arms over his shoulders though and began leading them to a room like fixture.

"Lee!" One twin began sitting down next to a darker skinned boy with dreadlocks, "We'd like you to meet our baby brother."

The other twin brought Ron in and sat him down.

"Uh, nice to meet you and all, but I'd kind of like to meet up with Neville and Mione-"

"Ah ah, Mum said we had to keep an eye on you."

"You really don't have to do that," Ron assured. The twins only grinned at his uneasiness. Jerks.

"Oh but what kind of brothers would we be if we didn't?"

Ron really didn't know how to answer so he just attempted to change the subject.

"So what's in the box?"

Lee grinned excitedly. My pet tarantula. You want to see?"

"Do I?!" Ron asked rhetorically getting closer to the box. Lee opened it only for confusion to bloom on his face. There was no spider in the box.

"Oh no."

Lee stood and began frantically searching the compartment. After about two minutes, the four came to the conclusion the spider was loose on the train. Oh it had been crazy as they had all split up to search, well the older boys did. Ron used it as a means to find a spot away from his brothers for the rest of the journey. He had slipped into compartments when they were about to come by, much to Mandy's surprise and a few people's displeasure. There was one thing in common with each compartment he entered though, they seemed to be at max capacity, either physically or emotionally. He would not remain in a room where two students seemed to be eating each other's face off.

Only nine minutes aboard this train and he was not thrilled being on it too much longer, for goodness sake, he just wanted a place to sit down to eat the sandwich Molly made him. Whatever it was. He opened another door to see a lone individual. Green eyes stared up at him.

"Uh, hello. Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"Sure," the boy with messy black hair smiled.

 **And end scene!**

 **Oh jeez I am freaking tired. Hope you all don't attempt to kill me for this.**

 **The italics are pulled from the book and I do not take credit for it. Everything else, came from my diseased imagination.**


	2. Of trains and chocolate frogs

Ron sat next across from the dark haired boy getting comfortable. He looked back and smiled. The boy smiled back.

"I'm Ron. Ron Barton," Ron greeted.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter," the boy echoed with his own twist.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same," Harry responded. There was an awkward silence between the two, neither knowing what to say to one another. Ron was no stranger to silence. Nor to the chaotic rancor of loud individuals. But he had entered his space... And he was staring at him in what seemed anticipation.

"So, you new to this?" Ron asked dumbly. He felt like an idiot for asking. Why else would he need help getting onto the platform?

"Yeah. My aunt and uncle are muggles."

"Aunt and uncle? They must've been surprised."

"Erm... I guess," Harry grew softer in tone. Ron recognized it from his few times being babysat by younger agents. Touchy subject. Ah well, it's not like they were best friends or anything so no need to really pry. But he didn't want to end a conversation on _that_ note.

"My dad was surprised. He thought I was a mutant."

Harry looked a bit confused.

"A mutant?"

"Dad had no idea about magic. So when I popped into his room right in front of him he thought I was a mutant. Gave him a bit of a scare," Ron chuckled. Harry looked baffled.

"He was fine with you possibly being a mutant?"

"Sure. Dad knows a few and says they're cool. Why?"

"My aunt and uncle call them freaks."

"Ah," Ron responded dumbly. He had heard comments like that from some anti mutant supporter agents. Though the thought wasn't all that strange considering some of the mutants were super freaky. Kitty still kind of scared him from the day they met. She should not have put her hand through his chest to show her powers. It was just creepy. But they weren't freaks. They were just... Different. Like his Aunt Tasha was real different. Or his dad when he didn't have enough sleep.

"So you excited?" Ron changed the subject. It seemed to be the right thing as Harry began talking about how cool Diagon Alley was when he traveled with a large man named Hagrid. Seemed pretty cool to Ron. And Harry's excitement was infectious. As much as Ron loathed to be forced away from his dad and not be able to learn under Strange, there was something exciting to be able to interact with kids his own age learning magic just like him. There was laughter with small jokes and stories of magic being traded like cards leading to Ron telling more rediculous stories about his dad performing fears that made magic seem normal.

"I'm telling you, my dad tried a dog biscuit once, we had a can of soup and some stale dog treats. He gave me the soup and actually ate the dog treat," Ron laughed, "He kept eating them too. I think he said they were chicken flavored."

Harry grinned and let out a small chuckle.

"He didn't go to the store?" Harry asked.

"Nope. He was tired from work and it would've taken about fourty five minutes just to get there-"

Ron was interrupted by a rumbling from his stomach.

"Uh, sorry. Haven't exactly eaten anything recently," Ron admitted, rummaging through his pockets. He knew Molly had packed something for him. He found a wrapped package in his pocket and opened it. A well known scent assaulted his nose as Ron's face contorted into disgust.

"Oh yuck. Corned beef."

Ron slid his head back against the wall behind him as he wrapped the vile sandwich up. He'd eat it later if he had to. It wasn't like he was running around right now, so what harm could it really be?

"You're not going to eat?"

Ron froze. He really didn't want to have to go into the whole, didn't like corned beef thing when he hadn't really told Harry about his situation. So instead, he opted for another excuse. Good manners.

"Well, I don't care for corned beef. But there isn't enough to share either. My aunt's told me how rude it is to eat when someone else is with you and they can't."

"Oh."

"Anything off the trolley dears?" a new voice interrupted. Ron's head whipped around to see an older woman with a trolley filled to the brim with cavity creating sweets most likely popular with young witches and wizards. Truthfully they did look really good. And his dad did get him a few when they were exploring Diagon Alley. He did like those licorice wands. But he didn't have any money. So he was stuck with the ick factor on his sandwich.

"No thanks. I'm all set," he responded dejectedly. He couldn't help it. He was stuck with nasty corned beef throughout the entire train ride. He knew he should be thankful he had something. But why did it have to be this nasty excuse of meat?

"We'll take the lot," Harry excitedly called out after Ron. Ron gave him a look. There was no way he could pay for all of that. But the coins he fished out of his pocket said otherwise.

"Woah," he muttered. Damn, his aunt and uncle must've really cared for him if they gave him that much pocket change. He wasn't even supposed to carry more than ten dollars. Granted, there wasn't much he could do with the money on the Helicarrier... But it hadn't really changed after moving into Tony's tower.

* * *

"Come on Hermione. He's got to be here somewhere," Neville encouraged. Hermione sighed as she continued on. She wanted to find Ron too. But they would all be at Hogwarts that night. They could all meet up there. That paired with the fact of Ron's brothers being on board most likely meant he was with them in some sort of family time.

"Alright Neville. Careful!" she called out grabbing Neville's toad as it att peter to escape out his pocket once more. Neville gave a sheepish grin and took the toad back.

"Thanks. Trevor doesn't seem to like the train all that much."

* * *

Ron and Harry were admist dares for Bernie Botts every flavor beans. Apparently wizards were quite literal. Ron had already gotten spinach, pepper and the nastiest horror of all, corned beef. Though he had also gotten chocolate, strawberry, and lemonade so he guessed they weren't all bad. He'd have to get his dad to try some. The pranking possibilities afterward would be wonderful.

"Your turn Ron. I got marmalade."

Ron grabbed another at random and popped it back in his mouth. His nose scrunched as he recognized the flavor. Beets. Not a favorite. But not bad either.

"Beets," Ron muttered looking back at the other sweets, "Maybe we should try something else."

"Sure," Harry sighed in relief.

"Didn't care for them?"

"They are a bit of a shock," Harry admitted. Ron had to agree with Harry.

"Let's have some chocolate," Ron said picking up a chocolate frog. The container was a pentagon in shape. And had a small bit of chocolate shaped like a cute little frog. He popped open the container and reached for the chocolate. He jumped when the chocolate jumped on his arm. He stared, rather bewildered by the moving chocolate.

"Oh man it's alive," Ron freaked dropping the moving chocolate to the floor. Both boys watched as it innocently hopped under their door and out into the long hall of the train. Harry put his box down a little put off of the frogs. Ron looked back at the package and noticed something odd. He fussed with it until he held an odd card in his hand. It was shaped like the box and had an image on it of an old man with an amazingly long beard. He seemed familiar.

He flipped the card over.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.

"Bowling. Huh. Who would have thought," he commented slipping the card into his pocket. The thought of an old man Merlin lookalike going to a bowling alley was a funny image. Not as funny as when Tony tried to do... Well just about anything among "normal" people. He truly believed that Pepper would one day get a harness and leash for that man.

"Cauldron cake?" Harry offered, "Nothing magical about this one."

Ron snorted. Harry chuckled and soon were both laughing at the unintended joke. Nonmagical sweet in magical society. Right. Still he accepted one from Harry. The cake was sweet, and tasted wonderful. So soft and spongy...

It tasted better than the licorice wands!

"That's really good."

Harry hummed in agreement as they partook in enjoying all the different sugary treats.

Pit was during this that Percy's little gift to Ron made himself known. Ron jumped as his pocket seemed to wiggle and he pulled out the rat Scabbers. Lazy fat rat seemed to be somewhat awake. Ron forgot he was even in his pocket with how lethargic he had been. God he hoped the rat wasn't sick. He just got him.

"Is that-?"

"A rat? Yeah. Percy gave him to me."

"Who's Percy?"

Ah, a loaded question.

"Just somebody I met this summer," Ron commented, "He didn't want him anymore so I took him."

Well, that was sort of how it happened. The rat didn't seem to care about having a new owner. Heck, it just seemed hungry.

Ron didn't know a lot about rats, but knew they'd eat just about... Anything... Hm...

"I wonder if Scabbers would eat a chocolate frog," Ron pondered aloud. He looked to Harry asking a silent question. It was one thing to share your food with a stranger, it was another to share it with a rat.

"Well, he does seem hungry. One shouldn't hurt," Harry responded to Ron's silent question. Ron grinned and opened another chocolate frog, dumping the magical chocolate confection near Scabbers. Ron and Harry watched in disgust and sick fascination as the rat wasted no time in tackling the frog, ripping it apart with it's little teeth. The frog continued to move, but didn't look like it was in pain. In fact, the chocolate stilled more with each bite the rat took.

"That is crazy," Ron grinned now stroking his pets' back. The rat didn't seem to mind as it continued to partake in the candy. Harry was about to say something when the doors slid open. Both boys turned their head to see a pale faced boy with bleach blonde hair and cold blue eyes. His face thin and aristocratic in a way that seemed to scream that he was incredibly British. He was flanked on both sides by large dark haired boys with doughy like faces that gave way only simple emotions. Either they weren't all that bright, or they were too used to following the fair haired boy. Possibly both.

"Is it true?"

"Well, perhaps. But I have no idea what you're asking about so maybe not," Ron quipped. The boy scowled fiercely at Ron before his eyes went back on Harry.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

Ron gave Harry a look.

"Famous much?" Ron asked. How did this kid even _know_ Harry? Unless Harry lied about not knowing about the platform and actually knew magical things. Nobody seemed to hear him as Harry answered yes. The pale skinned boy introduced his lackeys as Crabbe and Goyle, followed by the dramatic reveal of his own name. Draco Malfoy.

Ron couldn't help but snort as he held back a laugh. Oh man did his name sound so fake.

"You think my name's funny do you?" Draco hissed, "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children they can afford."

Ron's face hardened with the boy's declaration. He straightened his back a little and stared directly into Draco's eyes.

"Well, you think you're so smart, but my name is Ron Barton. Raised over the Atlantic in the good old US of A with my dad."

"Oh I've heard about you," Draco spoke with a renewed clarity, "You were the Weasley who was kidnapped by a muggle. Just goes to show you that there are some Wizarding families that are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held his hand out to Harry. An offer of either an alliance or friendship. Time seemed to slow slightly as a possible friend may become an antagonist. Harry didn't move his hand toward Draco's offered limb.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort out for myself thanks."

Ron's jaw went slightly slack hearing what Harry said. An 'Oh snap' hung on the tip of his tongue for the effective reply as a faint bit of color bled onto Malfoy's cheeks in embarrassment. Or perhaps anger... Ron couldn't quite tell. He felt a sense of joy though as he was chosen as Harry's friend. Or maybe just ally. But was this blonde so bad or was he just like a little Tony?

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he remarked, pausing for what appeared to be dramatic flare, "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Ron and Harry stood, getting on even eye level with the viper tongued boy. Ron didn't know who this Hagrid person was, but he knew an insult and threat when he heard them. They were common place on the Helicarrier after all. Most were just a joke among partners and friends, clearly that was not the case here.

"Care to repeat that?" Ron dared. He had seen many female agents do this when someone said something they didn't agree with and even believed them stupid for saying something in the first place. This was his chance to take it back-

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?"

Smug jerk.

"Unless you get out now," Harry responded. He seemed to be really brave. But Ron wasn't sure they could take these three. Two of them were bigger, they were in a small space, and he was sure none of them had any idea how to actually fight. Bad combination.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle gave a gluttonous grin as he reached for their pile of chocolate frogs. Ron didn't quite know what to do. Neither were too crazy about moving frogs that may or may not have been alive at one point, but he didn't want to lie down and roll over to someone so rude and hateful to his situation.

He didn't need to make a choice as Goyle yelped in pain. It had seemed as though Scabbers really liked the chocolate and was defending the small horde, biting into Goyle's finger, digging in at the knuckle. The interaction was short lived as the boys fled with the Goyle flinging Scabbers back on the seat. Ron looked back at the rat. He picked him up gingerly and checked for any unusual bumps. The rat didn't mind as it seemed to have fallen asleep.

Ron looked back at Harry.

"Did Scabbers scare them?" Ron asked.

Harry opened his mouth to answer when two individuals entered their compartment. Ron's face split into a large grin.

"Mione! Neville!"

"Ron! We've been looking all over for you. Who's this?"

Ah, quick to the point. As it seemed common with Hermione.

"Hello Ron," Neville added being polite as always, "Hello-?"

"Oh Harry. Harry Potter."

Neville's eyes widened, a ok of epiphany appeared on his face. Hermione looked estate company as she began speaking quickly, mentioning Harry was named in a few of the books that she had purchased. Ron turned to face Harry as he listened to Hermione go on about a supposed feat and status he had.

"Just looks like another kid to me," Ron spoke without realizing the words slipped out until he noticed the silence from voices and the three staring at him. Ron flushed a light red as he sat among the sweets. Harry sat as well and extended an invitation for the two to join them. Neville and Hermione wasted no time to accept. It was Neville who spoke next.

"Sorry about barging in. I'm Neville Longbottom, and this is Hermione Granger," he introduced, "You know you look a lot like your dad."

"What?" Harry asked. The entire cart asked the same question. Neville didn't seem all that embarrassed.

"My mum, and your mum knew each other pretty well. So my mum also knew your dad. She showed me some pictures of my dad and your dad growing up."

"Your mum knew my parents?"

Neville nodded.

"If you want, I could ask my mum to send some pictures."

Harry gave a genuine smile, his eyes seemed slightly watery.

"I'd like that."

"Are they basic photographs? Or the Wizarding moving pictures?" Hermione asked. Her curiousity was brimming, and it seemed as though every picture, every image was brought to life.

"Moving."

"I've heard there's a potion that the image is soaked in to make it move..."

Small conversation and candy eating continued between the four changing subjects as fast as they could think of them. School, accidental magic, Neville trying to convince everyone to eat a chocolate frog, and recent events just to name a few.

Time flew by until their door was opened once more. Standing tall and proud was Percy Weasley, dressed in decent robes with a red and gold necktie Ron swore he had seen Tony wear once before. Percy looked over the room, hesitating only a little to let his eyes linger on Ron before addressing the compartment.

"We will be arriving soon. You'll want to get changed into your robes. You will be expected to wear them once the train stops."

The group gave an affirmative as Percy left, his eyes lingering the longest on Ron and Scabbers.

Each person faced a corner as the got in their robes. Though none of them were really inappropriate, they had all watched as Neville turned to a corner and proceeded to do the same.

Ron and Harry had been thankful for Neville and Hermione as they made a valiant attempt to look good in the robes. Hermione had taken to straightening and smoothing the fabric while Neville checked the buttons to make sure they were lined up afterwards while regaling them of the many times he had put a robe on with it ending up attached to his ear. The four gathered Harry's remaining sweets, few as they may be, and Ron's rat as well as Neville's escape artist toad. The train screeched to a halt as scuffling could be heard, people directing one another to where they needed to go. The group stepped outside where they saw a giant of a man. Harry ran up and greeted him with much enthusiasm. He heard a few words before realizing that this man was the Hagrid Malfoy had referred to. They talked for less than a minute before they were all called to a lake. Boats with lanterns floated in the water waiting for them.

"No more than four in a boat!" Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville, quickly got into a boat, each wondering why the boats, and where were the other students? They didn't have time to ask as the boats filled quickly and they began to move. Everyone stared as Hagrid's boat led them under a large rock formation and revealed an enormous stone castle. It took many of the children's breath away.

"Head's down!" He called out. They all ducked as they were led under ivy to an entrance. Students climbed out as their boat waited by land, each group climbing up the stairs, leading to large oak doors. The enterance to what would be many more years to come.

 **Now I do not own the Avengers, Marvel, or Harry Potter. I am using quotes directly from the book though and don't own them either. As you may see, this is where things are going to be getting even crazier. Soon, Everyone will be sorted!**

 **Anyone up for a game of guess the houses?**

 **Just kidding.**

 **On a more serious note, let me know what you are all thinking. Please review.**


	3. My life in the hands of a hat

The grand oak doors opened letting the first year crowd peak into the stone corridor. An older woman in a green robe greeted them and took the children from Hagrid. Her face was distinguished and spoke of wisdom beyond years of anyone he knew. Her eyes were sharp, and her lips pursed as she dismissed Hagrid and brought everyone inside. The school was no less awe inspiring on the inside than it was on the outside. The grand halls were stone and cool, with grand banners and paintings seen at a distance.

Ron wished he had an extra set of eyes to see the caste, each detail of the aged wonder. It felt like he had traveled through time with the torches and lack of tech he had seen all his life, even in Strange's abode. He had loathed coming here to learn, but if he was forced to, then this place didn't look too terrible. They walked until they came to large doors where the woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall explained that they would all be separated into four groups. Each with distinct traits, named after the founders.

Ron kind of liked the sound of Ravenclaw. It sounded so cool and would be a great to be a bird like his dad. Caw caw... Heheh.

Though how were they going to be separated? Neville wasted no time in explaining the houses.

"Well, Gryffindor is the house of the brave. It's where both my mum and dad were placed when they went to school here. Ravenclaw is the house of the, I guess smart people. Everyone there is really smart. Slytherin is the cunning house. And notorious for some of the worst wizards and witches to come from here. And Hufflepuff has people who are extremely loyal."

Loyalty, cunning, intelligence, bravery. All traits he had seen throughout his life in his family.

"Didn't your brothers tell you?"

"They called me a little lion. I thought it was a family thing."

"The lion is the mark of Gryffindor," Neville commented.

"I heard Dumbledore was in Gryffindor. The books always speak highly of the house. But Ravenclaw doesn't sound bad either," Hermione added in excitedly. Ron opened his mouth to continue when Harry stiffened next to him making him look over. The words that poured out of his mouth were not the ones he had planned.

"Mione, I see dead people," he whispered. She looked over and jumped when she saw the ghosts. Neville seemed calm enough, possibly even used to it. His ears were numbed to their words as they flew through, one soaked in blood, and each dead from long ago. Ron took controlled breaths as they disappeared.

It was mere moments later that the doors were opened and they filed into the large room. Ron half listened as Hermione prattled on about how the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. It was when the group stopped that he looked all around, his eyes focused on the banners above the tables. Green and silver snake, blue and bronze bird, yellow and brown badger, and red and gold lion. He saw red haired boys smiling at the group of first years from the lion's table. He slid deeper within the group, hiding behind Neville. Neville gave a concerned look but didn't move, allowing Ron to hide. Ron looked to the end of the hall where there was a grand table filled with many people, presumably the staff. Sitting in the center was Albus Dumbledore, the apparent Headmaster of the school.

Then, there was singing. A lone voice not too pleasant, singing of the glories of the houses followed by a roar of applause from those sitting at the tables. McGonagall began to call students up starting with Abbott, Hannah. She was a rosy cheeked girl with blond pigtails. She sat in the grand, throne like chair when a withered old hat was placed on her head, slipping over her eyes. Ron furrowed his brow when a seam opened up and a loud voice dominated the hall proclaiming, "Hufflepuff!"

The table next to them cried out in glee under the humble badger banner. Ron wondered why it didn't have a richer color. The others had bronze, silver and gold. Why not the humble badger?

During his musing another girl was called up and sorted to the same house.

"Is this what they're doing for everyone? Ron questioned.

"Must be," Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Another roar of applause, this time to the table on their other side accepting a boy Ron didn't catch the name of. Or just wasn't paying attention. He'd go up when his name was called and see where his friends would go. Ron pouted a little when the others didn't have the same idea as they watched who was sorted where. Ron didn't entirely get it. Sure it was good to know where you had friends, and where you had enemies, but nobody really knew anybody. Except for the ones raised as witches and wizards. And he was proud to say he had not.

That didn't stop him from noting that each house had gotten more than one person by the time Hermione was called. Ron smiled and gave her a small pat.

"Go on up Mione," he smiled. Neville and Harry both gave similar words of encouragement and she darted up faster than Ron noticed anyone else. The trio of boys chuckled a little seeing Hermione actually jam it on her head in excitement rather than let the Proffessor gently place it.

"What's the likelihood she'll be in Ravenclaw?" Ron pondered aloud.

"Pretty high," Neville guessed.

"I think she'd be brilliant in Ravenclaw," Harry added. Even those who knew her for so little could see how much knowledge she craved. But what happened, when the hat opened its' seem surprised the three as it declared her a Gryffindor.

"I did not see that coming," Ron admitted as Hermione practically skipped over to the lion's table.

The three talked a bit, much to Ron's enjoyment until Neville was called up. He looked a bit nervous, but walked up like so many before him. He sat calmly in the chair as the hat was placed on his head. It took a moment to declare him. A lion like Hermione. Ron could see it. He did run into a Mexican standoff, and remained pretty calm in the whole Loki incident. Yes his dad did tell him all about the stupid stunt both Hermione and Neville pulled. Huh. Maybe Hermione was meant for Gryffindor...

He and Harry didn't really listen until their little bully Draco Malfoy was called for his placement. The smug boy walked up with confidence, sitting in the chair in a half baked appearance of owning the room. Clearly he did not. Though, Ron wondered what it meant when the hat barely touched his head and declared him a Slytherin. Was he that cunning? Ron was a little baffled considering how they interacted on the train.

There were a few people being called Ron didn't really pay attention to when Harry's name was called. The hall filled with hushed whispers as Harry made his way up. Once Harry sat, Ron thought the hat would answer in under a minute. But the whole school was silent. Waiting with baited breath. Was this what happened with all celebrities? Heck, he had heard a quick thing from Hermione about why he's supposed to be so important but he didn't get it. He had fifteen minutes of horrid "fame" when he was "found" from an event he couldn't remember. He couldn't imagine what Harry would be going through if this was how it was always going to happen.

While waiting for the hat's choice, Ron looked around, noting that the crowd looked far more space than when it had started. His jaw tightened slightly and his stomach groaned. While he did eat on the train, it was nothing substantial so he burned right through it.

"Gryffindor!" the hat proclaimed getting the loudest roar of approval from his brothers' table.

All of his friends were lions. All of his biological family were lions. Suddenly he did not want to be sorted. Any choice could be a wrong one. His friends were all together, and if he joined them, he'd be throwing himself to the lion's share of familial chaos. As names were called in tandem, time ignoring Ron's turmoil, a name was called that made him snap.

"Weasley, Ronald."

Ron didn't move. He stared defiantly at the Professor in emerald robes as the hall grew silent once more. He took a deep, yet shuttered breath.

"Barton. My name is Ronald Barton. I have been raised a Barton. It is the name I go by."

His cheeks felt hot as he held back the urge to yell. He was already being singled out among his peers for this. But he would not give up his father's name just because they said so. The emerald clad witch held her gaze with him but had no immediate reply. There appeared to be a standstill until one Professor seemed to have been throughly unamused by the small disagreement. A sallow faced man with oily hair stood slowly, irritation clearly evident on his face, as if there were hundreds of other things he'd rather be doing than be here. His gaze cold and unforgiving as he addressed the situation. Given everyone's reactions, nobody expected it. Although, their was an odd twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes. Why in the world wasn't he doing anything? Wasn't he the headmaster?

His mind's thought was severed as the baritone voice spoke across the hall.

"Mr. Barton-Weasley, do get on with the ceremony. There is a curfew tonight."

Ron didn't know this man. But there was a small bit of delight from him honoring his dad, even if he did tack on his apparent biological last name. There were hushed whispers as he made his way up. Gossip, questions, about him and the man, apparently named Proffessor Snape. People wondering what the connection was. People thinking that perhaps he had been a part of his "abduction".

He sat in the chair looking over the entire hall when the hat was placed on his head. The room was silent then as far as Ron was concerned.

"Hm..."

Ron jumped a little as a whispered and scratchy voice entered his ear.

"How different. Another Weasley- but you don't like that name. Do you? You're different from your brothers I can tell. From your mother and father as well. You don't seem to rushing towards Gryffindor like they were. Your mind seems to be more of a puzzle, like your brother Percy."

"Percy?"

"Yes, but we're here to look at you. Not your family. Now let's see. Plenty of ambition I see. But only to assist those you deem worthy. How very loyal you are to your father... Hm yes... You know many things, a bright boy you are... But with such a distracted look on the world."

"I'm eleven! I haven't even gone through my teenage years."

"That's why I am placing you. Now let's see, so many options would lead you to great things- but admist your knowledge... Ambition... And loyalty... I see you have done many brave things."

Flashes of his childhood joys of traveling alone in the vents when he was little and not supposed to, leaving the Helicarrier when people appeared to be after him, and then the whole debacle when Loki was attacking and he teleported back into the fray. Sort of. Then most recently, his time at the Weasleys, fighting them openly, not lying down or being quiet. Actually teleporting to his incarcerated dad, consequences be damned. Some of them seemed rather silly now, but it did make him feel brave at the time.

"Yes, you seem to have it in spades. But there is doubt. You are fearful. But you have run into situations with the same fear, and have grown from it."

"Wait. Please don't tell me-"

"There is little to dispute. The house you'd thrive best in... Better be-"

"Gryffindor!"

 **I have probably made little friends with this chapter. Lions everyone. Lions!**

 **Because as we all though, people often encompass more than one house's traits. That's called being human. Now, do I get a bit of satisfaction from this chapter? Absolutely. Will people hate me for it? Eh, probably. And will others say I'm just rewriting the books? With little doubt. However, there are plans in motion that may or may not be entertaining later. But enough about that.**

 **If you would all be so kind as to let me know what you're thinking, for better or worse, a blessing or curse, benign of adverse...**

 **Oh, but before I leave... This fic is not intend to be a bash fic. Make of that what you will.**


	4. Dreamlike

Ron blinked as the hat was lifted from his head. There was a fair amount of applause. He stood slowly and made his way to his friends. He saw that Neville was sitting next to Harry who had Hermione on the other. Percy sat next to Hermione with little interest as Ron made his way over. Fred and George were a little further down with a group of people, all older than Ron. They seemed to glance and smile down for a moment before returning their attention to who Ron assumed were their friends as the last student was called and sorted.

It was then Dumbledore gave general rules as well as a few sketchy warnings. A forbidden forest? A corridor promising certain death? What kind of school was this? Even his follow up with what seemed to be four words of nonsense. Ron didn't notice as food appeared until he heard a scuffle of forks and knives. The table was filled with various meats and vegetables, baskets filled with steaming rolls. Ron grabbed what was close to him, rolls, potatoes, roasted chicken and some steamed mixed vegetables. There seemed to be enough to go back for seconds as the bowls were all the way down the table, and it appeared there was more food than students. There seemed to be enough to feed the Helicarrier agents and the ever ravenous Avengers.

He couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he began to dig in. The food was rich and pleasant, his stomach quieted with food entering and nutrients flowing through. Everything was delicious. He went back for thirds!

He heard students enjoy the food as well as talk happily to friends they hadn't seen in months. Hermione was chatting animatedly next to Percy about all the classes she wanted to take and how she couldn't wait to start casting spells. Neville had been rolling with the punches, laughing with students next to him and acting as if he was old friends with the others. And for all Ron knew, he was. He did know he was a wizard since he was a baby, so maybe he did know the others.

Harry however was just soaking in the world around him looking around with great fervor. From the food to the very feel of the hall. It wasn't until a ghost came by and briefly introduced himself with a long and pompous name, proclaiming to be the ghost of the Gryffindor Nicholas something or other. He didn't stay long as Neville had whispered a little too loudly about his nickname of Nearly Headless Nick. Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville were disgusted when he revealed just how he was nearly headless. Thankfully it didn't last long as he floated away with his nose high in the air.

Lit was then food seemed to be the only thing he could pay attention to. From the rich meal to the change to copious amounts of dessert. He may have appeared gluttonous with all he had eaten, but he didn't care. He'd have one food coma to sleep off tonight. If he could find his sleeping quarters that is. With his stomach expanding, his eyes were growing heavy and he felt like he could sleep right where he was.

That idea went straight out the window as dinner changed to heaps of dessert. More than Ron had ever seen in his life. He swore he could hear his Aunt Tasha whisper in his ear not to eat too much sugar, as he had already indulged on the train. However, he swore he could hear his dad begin to argue with her, jokingly saying he could have a dessert or two. He grabbed some odd mints and a scoop of pudding, considerably smaller than his meal had been. He enjoyed it at a far slower pace as others attempted to fill their plates to their brim once more with the sugary treats.

* * *

Clint sighed glancing out the jet window, heading back to the states for his next mission. He appeared to be overly bored, extremely tired, and perhaps a bit hungry. That is to say, she was now beyond annoying. Natasha had known he could be irritating, but this was overkill for the purple clad archer.

"Stop drumming your fingers on my seat."

"Aw, but Tasha-"

"No buts. What would your son think?"

"He'd call me crazy and laugh as you try to kick my ass."

"You know I'd win," Natasha responded.

"Eh, now I don't have to be chivalrous in front of my baby boy-"

"Chivalrous? You?"

"Tasha, I can be incredibly chivalrous. You've seen Ron be a perfect little gentleman," Clint smirked.

"A perfect gentleman who likes to hide in the air vents."

Clint responded as maturely as he could by sticking his tongue out at his Russian partner. She didn't take to hitting him for his immaturity. For one, she was flying a plane, two, she knew he was trying to find both an outlet and distraction for missing Ron. After ten years of living with the bubbly red haired boy waiting to see her after long missions and speaking fractured Russian he picked up from her.

"Now stick your tongue back in your mouth," Natasha chided. Clint did so and proceeded to pout childishly as he looked for something else to do on the journey back to the states.

* * *

Ron didn't know where the time went. The meal had ended so quickly and they had been brought through the castle that apparently liked to mess with people. Percy the prefect and apparent big brother had brought them to a portrait of a fluffy woman and gave a password, Caput Draconis.

He had been sorted with a small group of first year boys for a dorm room. He nearly gave an outcry of joy when he was able to room with Harry and Neville. The other boys, he didn't know. Eh, he'd learn their names later. Hopefully they weren't a pain to live with.

The journey to their room was short, and Ron was not suprised to see a large room with exceptionally large beds for each of the boys. Their colors were gold and red. Other than the extra beds and the stone which the room was made of, it reminded him heavily of the room Tony had let him use. He didn't think he'd have trouble sleeping as each boy chose a bed and promptly flopped onto the soft mattress, snuggling into the covers, each not caring about changing into their pajamas.

Ron lay there waiting for sleep to take him. It didn't seem to come though, as drowsy as he was. His eyes were heavy lidded but refusing to close. Groaning, he slid out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He stood slowly in the now dimly lit room. He looked around noting the trunks at the foot of each of the beds, including it seemed, his own. He didn't bring that up... He absently wondered who did.

With his tired mind, he let it go. As it was, he needed to figure out his sudden bout of insomnia and get some rest. He wasn't usually prone to not being able to sleep. He could usually sleep as long as...

As long as he was in the Helicarrier or near his dad. He groaned again realizing this was going to be a minor problem. It would take a little longer for his body to drift off. And he was not looking forward to just lying there. But with his stomach brimming with food and the unknowns of the next day, he had chosen to lie down on the bed rather than take a late night walk like his aunt. He needed to sleep.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then another. His eyes opened once more to stare at the stone ceiling. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth a bit when someone started snoring.

"Oh come on," Ron whispered, rolling over on his stomach. He didn't mind the snoring, but it was just another thing to add onto a pile of everything in his life.

His eyes began to drop again though with the rythmic snoring. He barely realized when he fell into a deep sleep until he saw someone waiting for him in a meditative state, surrounded by warm colored clouds. An older man with dark hair slightly greying, and a warm smile to greet him.

"Strange?"

"Hello Ron," Strange greeted walking over through a cloudy mental vision. The area cleared out to reveal a stone room Ron felt wouldn't feel out of place in either Strange's house or in within what he had seen in Hogwarts.

It felt incredibly real.

"Where are we?"

"Hogwarts. Well, a certain room within Hogwarts."

"Strange? What do you mean?"

"Your father gave you the gloves I gave you?"

Ron furrowed his brows and looked up at Strange with curious blue eyes.

"Yes I have- wait! How are you here? I'm asleep. I'm in England. You're in America-"

A hand went in front of Ron's face, a silent sign for him to stop.

"I understand you are confused. I have yet to teach you-"

"Yet to? But how can you? I'm in America. It was hard enough to get my dad to let me learn under you. How-"

"Ron."

Ron closed his mouth. Strange began to speak once again.

"Once your father agreed to allowing me to teach you, according to American magical law, you have control on whether you continue to learn from me."

"But I-"

"Have duel citizenship. You are as American by law, as you are British by law."

"Okay... But how-"

"Grab your gloves and slip them on. They recognize my magic and will guide you to where we will be practicing. Now, get some rest. You have a long week ahead of you."

"So gloves when I wake-"

"When you are ready. There is no rush. We will see each other soon enough," Strange smiled before vanishing from his dream.

The room vanished from around him. A misty cloud like substance filled his mind. He allowed himself to drift, eventually fading from being able to remember what occurred throughout the rest of his sleep.

 **Ah, well... Things are going on.**

 **Kudos to those who know where Strange will be training Ron.**

 **Also, I enjoy the rare spectral appearances Strange has.**

 **Aha... Yay.**


	5. Settling in

Ron's eyes slowly opened as he could hear the hustle and bustle of movement in the room. His eyes fell to the four getting their trunks out, dressing in robes and smiles clearly appearing on their faces. Ron sat up with a yawn, missed by his roommates, each focused on getting ready for the day at their own pace. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. He had recalled he had a worn trunk with dull golden hinges... That was over at the foot of his bed. He stared at the trunk curiously. How the heck did it get up to the room?

They got off the train, were led to dinner, got sorted, ate, ate some more... And then went up to bed. So who put the trunk there? Come to think of it, all of their trunks were here. That wasn't unsettling in the least...

"Anyone know how our trunks got up here?" Ron asked.

"Not too sure. Just glad they did," one boy said. Seamus, Ron thought he said his name was. He yawned and slid out of bed, grimacing slightly at the feel of stone floors. He hoped he could put a rug next to his bed. No doubt they would get colder in the Winter and while the Helicarrier was high above the sky, where he should have been cold, he was comfortably warm and practically oblivious to the weather and temperature of the area.

"I guess," Ron responded standing up. He stretched his arms upward and cracked his back.

"Anyone know where we go? Because I have no idea."

"I think the Great Hall. For breakfast. We could always ask someone there," Harry suggested.

"It stinks we don't know any of the older students," Dean commented. Ron tensed slightly. No. He was not going to bring that up. Or more, specifically _who._

No need to get real close to those twins. Although... Percy might not be too bad. But he was probably busy being a prefect and making sure people stayed out of trouble. It wouldn't surprise him if that were the case. His dad loved to cause mayhem on people's first day. Said it made the whole experience more exciting. Or at least incredibly more memorable.

Bright red Kool-aid in the showers was a popular trick. Even if it did lead to his butt getting kicked by Uncle Fury later.

A small smirk came to his face thinking about the awkward family violence that occurred on a semi regular basis.

* * *

"Clint. Please focus."

"I'm kind of hungry."

"Clint."

Clint pouted but walked away from the sandwich shop. Truthfully this was a habit he had no matter what they were doing. He'd come up with ideas and stories to tell Ron that didn't involve gruesome assassination. Usually it involved food or the most recent awkward, get out of jail thing by playing deaf and incomprehensive woman who only knew Russian.

While Natasha would be more likely to speak of the mission itself if it wasn't highly classified, Clint enjoyed talking about the most mundane things to Ron, enjoying a sense of normalcy. Funny considering his childhood consisted of spies, espionage, and stories of the circus. Speaking of which, he still needed to take Ron to the circus. With all the chaos and the revelation that Ron had magic, they hadn't had time to take him to witness the splendor and occasional attempted pick-pocket. Wait, what was he doing again?

"For gods sakes Clint get your ass over here," Natasha hissed.

"I can't hear you," he sang opening the door to the shop, "My stomach's rumbling and I'm deaf!"

"Clint," she spoke softly as she walked over to him. He was about to step inside when she grabbed his ear and began to pull. He pouted as he was led away from what looked like a tasty sandwich. At least Ron could get a laugh about this later.

* * *

"For goodness sakes how big is this castle?" Ron moaned as he, Harry, Hermione and Neville finally made it to the Great Hall. Eight wrong turns, seven changing staircases, six wrong directions from distracted students, five helpful ghosts, four false doors, three houses gathering, two times falling for directions from a poltergeist and one yelling from a teacher about getting near the third floor forbidden corridor later and they had made it. A bit out of breath but hey, they were fine. And oh did breakfast smell good. Eggs, sausage and toast. Just what his dad would make in the morning when he had a few days off.

"Oh, breakfast smells good," Ron sighed.

"It does, doesn't it?" Neville replied.

"Do we sit where we sat yesterday?" Harry asked.

"I don't see why not," Hermione responded taking the lead and sitting where they sat at the banquet the night was Harry, Neville, Ron then Hermione. They chatted animatedly while filling their plates with desired food, wondering what their first class would be. And, when it would be.

It didn't take long for Professor McGonnagal to approach them with their class schedules that would answer their questions. "Your classes start tomorrow. Spend your time wisely to learn your way around the castle."

"Tomorrow? Why tomorrow?" Hermione questioned, her eagerness to learn bleeding through in her voice, "Is anyone else going to class today?"

"The second years and older have their classes starting today because they know their way around the castle. This is an opportunity for you to find your way around with less concern of being late to class. Older students have their own schedules and cannot always help you to your class. This castle is not always the easiest to navigate."

"What? No maps?" Ron asked. In such a large place, no signs and now he discovers there is no maps. What was wrong with this place? Scratch that, what was wrong with the people running this place?

"No Mr. Weasley. There are none."

Ron's faces melted from a joking confusion to cold fury. His nostrils were slightly flared and his eyes narrowed.

"I am Ronald Barton. Not Weasley."

He felt a hand go over his wrist, a gentle squeeze told him it was Neville trying to get him to calm down. He took a deep breath.

"My apologies. I recall your insistence last night," she responded to him unfazed by the fury, "However, I know your brothers well, and may call you by their name rather than the one you and Mr. Barton have given you. As will many of your teachers. Please be courteous as the transition occurs."

With that she walked away at a brisk pace.

"Transition? Brothers? What was she talking about?" Harry asked. Ron's face flushed a little realizing that he had only met Harry yesterday and had absolutely no idea what had happened in his most recent summer. He took a bite of his eggs and began explaining an abridged version of what had occurred.

"I was raised in America by a man who saved my life when I was little. He couldn't find my family so he took me in as his own. I came over with 'Mione here, to get her ready for school when my birth family found me. One incredible mess later and here I am," he explained. Harry looked perplexed but thankfully didn't ask anymore. Although, Hermione did fill in more information with her understanding that knowledge was power. She did her best to speak in a hushed tone as even a blind man could see how much Ron didn't want to hear it. He in turn acknowledged her attempt and began asking Neville some questions about the British Wizarding world.

Like, what in world was Qudditch?

Neville did his best to explain what sounded like a convoluted game. His head was practically swimming trying to keep everything in order.

Truth be told, it was a problem when he was homeschooled on the Helicarrier. While he could mimic people, it didn't mean he could retain the information all that well. It usually didn't make sense without some sort of picture or diagram to make an image in his mind to recall. While some could be audible, he was a very visual person. Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem in class.

He didn't exactly know how his dad would react if he had poor grades in a school neither of them wanted him in. He grimaced however at the fact it wouldn't matter. The Weasleys seemed to have no interest in letting him just be with his dad.

While he wasn't happy with that particular thought, he couldn't bring himself to hate them. He had seen moments where his dad would think back on his brother and wish nothing more than his safe return, to love each other as brothers they once were. When Ron wasn't around of course. He always transitioned quickly to hide his sadness.

"Ron? Are you still with us?"

Ron blinked. Then faced Neville with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry Nev. Guess I'm still a bit tired. What were you saying?"

"Eh, ah... You know what, it's nothing too important. I'll drag you to a game sometime this year and explain then."

* * *

Molly Weasley sat by her front door with her knitting needles and yarn in her lap. Her hands moving in slower than normal yet familiar motions. Unworried of Ginny walking in with her being over at Xenophillus's home she had begun working on her gifts for Christmas. She had a variety of colors to her disposal, many of which she wasn't using yet. Different sizes for different individuals like her many children.

Her eyes grew wet thinking about them. While Ginny was still living at home, still too young to go Hogwarts, there was still that feel of an empty house with two boys graduated, and her other th- four boys at Hogwarts, it just seemed to fast. Especially with Ron having not been with them for more than a month after they had lost him for so long.

Her hands trembled as her needles slipped from her shaking hands. Her eyes closed as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed. Her hands went to her face to cover it, letting her tears wet her hands.

He was so grown up now. How was her little baby boy so grownup. She remembered his birth with startling clarity. Times were rough with the war and she had the twins two years prior. She had been so paranoid. So protective of her boys. Her stomach had been cramping but she had been trying to protect her children she hadn't paid it any mind until mid spring.

When her stomach water had broken she had been terrified. In denial and terrified.

She had been scared half to death, and was stuck in the house with Arthur and her other sons, as she went into labor. She had moaned in pain and gave birth in her own bed, with no Mediwitch and only Arthur to help deliver the squirming infant. He had been a loud cryer when he was brought into the world. Bill had been barged into the room hearing the scream to see his dirty and crying baby brother.

It had been a breath taking moment. Holding him in her arms, she could only wonder how she hadn't realized how he had been inside her.

She had cried when she had him. She cried when she lost him. She cried once they found him again. And now she was crying, in mourning of all she had missed in his life. His first time learning the alphabet, his bathroom training, his first bout of accidental magic. So many important moments. So many missed moments.

Her tears seemed to fall for each important moment she had missed.

She didn't know how long she sat there when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her head lifted from her hands and looked over to the side to see Arthur standing with a somber expression. He leaned leaned over and pulled her into a comforting embrace, giving her a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Hello dear. How are you feeling?"

Red rimmed eyes looked up at her husband.

"Overwhelmed. Arthur, I'm curious, how are you taking this all so well?"

"Ah... Well... I guess I'm just glad he's alive and well. I've seen, I've heard horrors of parents losing their children from the war."

"Arthur. We _knew_ he was alive. We saw his hand move," she began to raise her voice standing up. Her knitting needles and yarn fell to the floor as her arm gestured to the clock. The hand was pointed to school with an updated if not slightly irritated moving picture of Ron. The eyes were shifty, glaring occasionally at the hands above him with the pictures of the twins smiling down at him.

"But we didn't know where he was Molly," Arthur assured softly, "And we can't see how they feel from it. Not... Not all children were so lucky. Charlie was in school with a few children who had night terrors from being captive from Death Eaters. Just being with them from days to weeks... They were never the same. They were haunted."

Molly stayed silent as she saw her husband's eyes grow shiny with tears.

"Seeing Ron... Alive. Healthy, enjoying life. I was happy."

Tears began to stream down his cheeks. Molly gave a sad sigh and cupped Arthur's cheek. They gave each other a small peck to each other's lips and took comfort in each other's arms.

* * *

While Ron had spent the morning with Neville, Hermione and Harry to attempt to find their classrooms, they each spent time searching out places in the afternoon. Harry seemed to love the Owlery and introduced him to his Snowy Owl named Hedwig. Hermione adored the Library grabbing as many books as her small arms could carry to a table. Ron would be surprised if she hadn't graduated without finishing each and every one of the books in there. And Neville liked to walk outside in the large courtyard like space that stretched a comfortable distance.

He was certain Harry was with Neville, perhaps talking about his parents that Neville seemed to have information about. Hermione was no doubt in the library reading one of the hundreds of books.

He had taken this time to slip away and grab his gloves that Strange had given him.

They felt as soft as ever, and fit the same. But there was an odd tingling sensation. He walked towards the exit of the dorm, the tingling growing ever slightly stronger.

He followed the feeling in a bizzare game of hot and cold. He found himself entering the underground portion of the castle. The dungeons specifically that housed what they understood to be the potion's classroom. Actually, he was really close to the potion's room when the tingling sensation seemed to pull him to the room next door. Curiously, he placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door. He peered his head inside to see Strange talking to the headmaster.

Strange looked away from the headmaster and gestured for Ron to come in. With slight confusion, he stepped into the room.

"Doctor Strange, Proffessor Dumbledore."

"Ah, Ron. Glad to see you've made it. We are just about finished setting up the room."

"Setting it up?"

"Yes," Dumbledore spoke in a whispery yet plenty loud tone, "We haven't had a student, take on an apprenticeship in many years. Alas, the room we have set aside for such teachings, is a bit of a mess."

It was true. There was dust and cobwebs covering every little thing in the room. Only footprints on the floor held a lack of dust. He thought back to living for a short moment with the gaggle of red heads and their incredibly domestic spells. He kind of wondered if there was one catered to removing something so simple.

"Though the house elves seem fine preparing it for you, even if they don't use their magic."

"Why can't they use magic?" Ron questioned.

"House elves can use magic," Strange began to explain, "Powerful magic. However, we are in close proximity with a potion's classroo. I'm afraid that many ingredients can taken in secondhand magic, making them more or less effective in their desired potions. This can be especially dangerous with more volatile potions."

"Cross contamination?" Ron asked. It sounded like something that made sense, and it was something he heard his Auntuncle Fitzsimmons complain about before. The little upward quirk to Strange's lips made him feel good that he was on the right track.

"Something like that."

 **Well hello all. So, I've been working on a few other angry little plot bunnies... And this has been a slow work in progress.**

 **Now as to my whole first day thing, it just made sense to me. We never hear or see older students who have time to show the younger ones to their classrooms. So they need time to actually get a lay out. This is how I did it.**

 **Anyway, kudos for the Room of Requirement guess. However, as Ron is noted to be an apprentice, Dumbledore is required to have a room available for use. And he does not know about the Room of Requirement so it's out of the current picture.**

 **And on my final note, this is not a fic meant for bashing.**

 **Later guys!**


	6. My teacher Gordan Ramseys

Ron glowered at his trunk as he searched for a set of pajamas. He had been angry enough when Molly had sent him with none of his clothes from America. He had remained silent knowing his dad would find a way to send him his clothes overseas. But until he did, he had to deal with... Whatever was going on in Molly's head. Truthfully, he didn't know. And he didn't want to think about it after the day he spent trying to learn the castle after he had found the room Strange would be teaching him.

It was all exhausting. Mentally more so than physically with everything moving around and changing up small landmarks. However, he had learned to navigate the monotonous Helicarrier with ease, so this couldn't be too hard right?

Right. He grabbed some soft clothes and changed into them, snuggling into the bed for the night.

* * *

Ron was wrong. Horribly wrong. It had been two days since his first, getting lost to just about each one of them along with Harry, Hermione and Neville. It was only on the fourth day that they had made it to the great hall without getting lost. Damn moving stair cases.

"Breakfast," Ron moaned in triumph. Harry gave him an amused look with a quirked smile. Neville rolled his eyes at the "American" attitude he displayed. Hermione just sighed, knowing from the months in America, that Ron would pretty much always be this way in the morning. She had seen his dad had been no different, at least until he had some coffee.

The group of four sat down in "their" seats and began serving small breakfasts. Well, Ron may have had a little more than the others from his own serving but no one commented. They began talking about the classes they had, mainly what they thought of their teachers. Hermione and Neville were rather nuetral as they hadn't interacted much with any. Harry was a bit surprised by a few of the teachers, especially Flitwick who had fallen from his stand after reading his name. Harry had blushed a little with embarrassment while Ron snickered. This of course led to Hermione slapping his arm but, it was still rather funny. The teacher seemed like fun, even if Ron had to correct him and say his name was _Barton,_ not _Weasley._ That seemed to be a running problem with many of the teachers.

Well, all of the teachers really. Not one had called him Barton as they did roll call. Few acknowledged his choice in name other than a look or nod of the head, and fewer apologized for irritating him. Though, at least he could stand the ghost teacher. Boring as sin the man was, he didn't even do a roll call. No name discrepancies there.

And Professor McGonagall had referred to him as a hyphenated Barton-Weasley. He couldn't really argue that one as she used _both_ his dad's and his birth family given name.

"Still, we have double potions with Slytherin. There's no secret between the students that Professor Snape holds a bias towards Slytherin, and hates every Gryffindor."

"Sounds delightful," Ron commented drinking his water. He was a bit disappointed not to see orange juice for the fourth day in a row. Maybe it was an American thing to have it to drink... That only questioned what the other drink was. Ron refused to believe it was pumpkin juice like Neville said. Who in their right mind would juice a pumpkin and drink it? He could understand a pastry, but a drink sounded nasty.

"Potions does sound rather fascinating. Imagine, being able to bottle magic," Hermione sighed with a dreamy expression blooming on her face.

"It kind of sounds like cooking," Harry commented. Ron paused his eating. He placed his fork back on his plate and thought for a moment.

"More like Chemistry. Guys! We can be mad scientists! Lab coats and everything."

"Really Ronald? It's magic."

"C'mon Mione. Just think. Mixing concoctions, firing brews, simmering liquids... Potions _is_ science."

"You don't even like science."

Harry was forced to explain to Neville what they were talking about while Hermione and Ron went back and forth about his dislike of science and looking forward to blowing things up. He was halfway through an explosion sound effect when he felt something poke his sides. He squeaked and jumped about an inch. He whipped his head around to see a smiling red head with his arm slung over... Someone. He twisted his torso to see the red head's duplicate. He he scowled at the two. The Twins' grins didn't falter though.

"Good morning Ronnie!" One of them sang, perfectly pleased and possibly amused.

"How are you this lovely day?" The other stated more than asked, his amusement unparalleled.

"Fine until you showed up," Ron grumbled turning back to his breakfast. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders.

"Aw, is Ickle Ronniekins upset?"

"Don't worry, we know the best cure for that."

Ron felt a sense of dread in his stomach. What exactly did they mean by that? He was answered when he felt spindly fingers touch his sides making him Yelp.

"Ron?" Neville spoke with worry. Harry and Hermione were also wondering what exactly was going on, and not too sure how to respond to the twins' antics. A peel of laughter escaped Ron's mouth and he seemed to collapse to the floor under the table. Worry flashed across the twins' and the first years faces when Ron fell. The laughter stopped and he appeared on the other side of the table.

"That's not funny," Ron commented trying to sound angry. His dad would tickle his sides when he was upset that he was sent on a long mission or they had one of their rare arguements. It was something that his who- the family that raised him knew. And given the gleam in the twins' eyes, they now knew it too.

"Fred. George. You're going to be late for class if you don't get a move on," a new voice cut through. The tall and thin faced older brother of the twins and subsequently Ron, Percy.

"Aw, but Perce-"

"We were just saying good morning to Ron."

Something sparked in Percy's eyes, unseen to Ron and the twins.

"Still, you both have class. And you four," he spoke now directing his attention to the first years, "You have class shortly as well. I advise you don't be late. Professor Snape is, a bit more aware of how punctual you are."

"Thank you, sir," Harry graciously responded. Ron was a bit baffled at how polite he was. Even more when the twins scoffed.

"Don't call him sir Harry-"

"No need to inflate his ego."

* * *

It had been a blur from there, but somehow, the four had made it to the potion's room on time and with Ron's dignity intact from the twins clingy behavior. Something that had Ron avoiding them from day one.

It was only about a minute after they had sat down, Hermione with Neville and Harry with Ron when their teacher walked in. A tall intimidating man with greasy hair and a sour expression. Ron recognized him as the man who had stood by his name during the sorting ceremony.

He looked as dour then as he did now.

Professor Snape turned to face the class once he reached the front. The air around him commanded respect and compliance. With absolute control, he called each students' name. Rather than it feeling like inquiry, it was more akin to a sounding death sentence.

Only, it surprised Ron when his name was called first.

"Mister Barton."

"Uh," he began dumbly, slightly in shock over the use of his chosen name, "H-here sir."

He continued on with the names sounding just as intimidating as he was sickeningly bored. That is, until he got to Harry's name. He glared at Harry with utter contempt and disgust. Well, maybe not that bad... But Ron recognized the look from his Aunt Tasha.

" _Mister Potter. Our new... Celebrity."_

His contempt with Harry was only clearer in his voice. Appearing done with attendance, and began his little opening speech.

" _You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."_

Ron's eyes widened in awe from the man. He was a magical Gordan Ramseys. Intimidating and appeared to take no crap. Just like on TV.

Quick as a viper Ron saw the man focus back on Harry.

" _Potter!_ _What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"_

 _"I don't know, sir," said 's lips curled into a sneer._

 _"Tut, tut-fame clearly isn't everything."He ignored Hermione's hand."Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"_

 _"I don't know, sir."_

 _"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"Harry forced himself to keep looking into those cold eyes. Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand."What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"_

 _"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"_

 _"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomack of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."He swept around in his long black cloak_ , his eyes watching over them like a hawk. Ron felt grim satisfaction as he was proved right. This was Gordan Ramseys... Magic edition.

The class went on with little issue. Granted Professor Snape was watching and it made just about everyone second guess themselves except Hermione.

It was a miracle that no one messed up their potion... At least from what Ron could tell. They had followed the instructions after all and that was really all they could do to get it right.

They had been dismissed with a huff and a demand that everyone present a small vial of their potions for him to test. For a moment, Ron wondered how exactly that worked. Did he test them himself or something?

 **Yes I quoted the book. It's italicized. There was no real reason to change such an epic part of the book. And why would Snape bother to change his speech? He wasn't effected at all by Ron's disappearance from the magical world, so no change in him so far.**

 **So that's it for this chapter for you guys and hopefully my plot bunny will stop being lazy and actually give me inspiration to write this. Later!**


	7. Fights, Friendship and Quiditch

"How could you enjoy any of that class?" Neville questioned, wondering if there was anything wrong with their friend and his strange reaction to the dour and rather terrifying man. Ron gave a wicked grin, one that was emphasized by the shadow cast by the tree he was walking under on their way to meet Harry's apparent friend, Hagrid.

"He calls me Barton. That gives him brownie points."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It wouldn't kill you to just respond."

"I do respond. Just not how they like," Ron responded cheekily.

"Why do you go by Barton?" Harry questioned. He was the odd one out of their little group, not knowing anything about Ron's circumstance. Well, it wasn't clear from all he had heard. There had been whispers and passings mentioning him as the boy-who-lived, but there was also Ron... The Lost Boy.

Hermione and Neville looked at one another, and then Ron. Ron didn't seem as phased by the question. But he looked almost forlorn. It had been a topic he didn't like to talk about. At least not in the recent month or so. There were too many emotions that hadn't settled in his mind and heart. But he was sharing a room with Harry. And they had met on the train as well as got along well with his first Wizarding friend, and his live in friend. He was going to find out some time. And he had seen the lies of the paper. It was better just to nip the bud now.

"My dad raised me, he didn't, he wasn't part of my birth family. And my birth family found me and wanted me. I fought them with my dad and kind of, sort of had a tie. So I'm a "Weasley"," he shuddered at using the name, "to them here. But I've always known myself to be a Barton."

There was a perplexed look on Harry's face. Like something just didn't make sense with what Ron had mentioned.

"Did you know though?"

"Know what?"

"That he wasn't your dad?"

Ron didn't stop walking at the comment but he did send Harry a hardened look. Something he probably didn't even know he was doing.

"He is my dad. He raised me."

"My Uncle raised me," Harry spoke with a slightly guarded tone, noting Ron's not well hidden animosity, "as did my Aunt... But I could never call them my parents, nor Dudley my brother. They are just my Aunt, Uncle and cousin."

"Okay. So they're not you're parents. But my dad is still in America."

"How can he be your dad if you already have living parents who love you?"

"I don't _know_ them Harry. They're hardly my parents so much as they are the ones responsible for me being born."

"Ron, you should really calm down," Neville attempted to intervene. He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder that was easily shrugged off.

"Harry, we don't really need to talk about this now," Hermione attempted at the same time. She had just made friends with this group, far more friends then she was used to having and the last thing she wanted was for them to fight. However, Ron had said something Harry couldn't ignore.

"Responsible? You have parents! Honest to good parents and you don't even want them." It seemed as though Harry had more to say, just not able to express it. Ron however didn't quite pick up on it. Harry didn't act like an agent at all. The well guarded individuals you had to really look at to know their motives and emotions.

"I was fine before with just my dad and Aunts and Uncles in America. I didn't need them then and I don't need them now," Ron growled quietly.

"How could you not need them? They're your parents. Your family."

"So you would leave everything you know if some stranger came to you and said they were your parents? And they could be your parents?"

There was little, if any hesitation before Harry answered being brutally honest.

"Yes. I would."

Everything paused for a moment. Then, in a moment's breath, Ron jumped Harry.

Both boys tussled on the ground until Neville was able to pull Ron off Harry. Both boys were slightly ruffled and dirty, but ultimately unharmed. Ron's face was flushed with fury while Harry's face was stony. In a huff, Ron wiggled out of Neville's grip and tore off to the castle on his own. He barely heard his name called out. He didn't turn back.

* * *

The week that followed wasn't much better. Hermione and Neville were both unsure how to interact with Ron and Harry who were still at odds end and not speaking to one another when they began their first flying lesson. Not even when Neville's Grandmother had sent a crystal ball that turned red when the holder forgot something. Neville tried to get them to laugh together over the silly thing, but they wouldn't. So he began talking about the flying, hoping to get something out of the two. Neville seemed a bit nervous, but assured everyone that everything would be fine.

They were lined up with the Slytherin first years next to brooms. Each were instructed by a hawk faced professor named Madam Hooch she told them to call their broom by saying up. Most brooms remained on the ground. Harry's shot directly up into his hand, much to his delight. Ron's gave a jump of a good half foot before falling back to the ground. Ron attempted twice more before the broom finally made it into his hand. It took another minute or so before everyone had a broom in hand. Madam Hooch showed them how to mount, correcting different students including a minor correction for Malfoy.

Ron had apparently had his legs to close together. Who would've guessed? Madam Hooch was giving a countdown for them to try and get a foot or two in the air before returning to the ground when it seemed Neville was air bound. The first years watched, not knowing what to do as Neville appeared to lose control as he went wildly into the air. It ended quickly though as he crashed with a sickening crack.

"Neville!" Ron called out with two other voices taking a few steps forward. He had noticed Hermione and Harry moved up in the same concern when they were cut off by Madam Hooch. She knelt down and checked his wrist, recognizing a break. She helped him up and took him to the nurse's office with a clear threat if any of them took to the air, expulsion was certainly an option. The students murmured among themselves until Malfoy broke in.

"Did you see his face?" Malfoy laughed, walking over to where Neville fell. Ron felt his lips curl back so it appeared he was baring his teeth.

"It's not funny," Hermione huffed, her own irritation of Malfoy just starting to bleed into her voice. She had only really heard of him, and only saw him in class. But she had heard how both Harry and Ron met him, and it just made her feel unsettled.

"Oh, fancy Longbottom do you?" He questioned, attempting to sound insulting. Hermione just looked angrier as Malfoy scooped something off the ground. "Look he dropped something."

"Give it back," Harry spoke up. Malfoy smirked and tossed the orb in his hand.

"Or maybe I'll leave it somewhere for him to find. Like a tree," he said mounting and taking to the air. Harry mounted his broom while Hermione tried to talk him out of it, saying he'd get into a lot of trouble. In hindsight, she probably should have also told Ron at the same time because he took into the air, consequences be damned. He didn't want to be in a British school anyway. And while he wasn't actively thinking it, this was an oppertunity to change that.

There was something so freeing... And well terrifying only being in the air by a thin piece of wood.

Harry came up shortly after. Both boys stared Malfoy down.

"Give up Malfoy. Your bodyguards aren't here to protect you," Harry called out. Malfoy seemed to realize this as well, given Harry's apparent natural talent as he swooped to try and grab Neville's... Thing. Malfoy narrowly dodged. Then, with a wicked grin, he grew the orb. Ron and Harry dove after the orb.

But Harry was slightly more agile, taking the lead before Ron. Ron pulled back slightly, giving some distance so he wouldn't crash into Harry. It was a bit of a suprise to see Harry catch the orb, his back facing a window. Ron paled slightly as he saw Professor McGonnagall on the other side of the window... Watching.

"Harry," he said softly. Harry looked at Ron. There was none of their past anger, just respect and curiosity.

"Yeah Ron?"

"We should probably land."

"Erm... Right."

Both boys glided slower than they had gone to the ground. Ron had a softer landing than Harry, not slouching forward to get his balance as they were crowded by the students of their house. Harry a bit more than Ron given he had caught what Malfoy had thrown. For a moment, they felt proud and accomplished by their feat. Even if Hermione was telling them how irresponsible they both were and had smacked Ron's arm.

"Mister Potter! Mister Weasley-Barton!"

Ron jumped at his hyphenated name. He was somewhat pleased, though mostly disappointed. Why the Weasley? And why did it have to come first?

But he was far more freaked as Professor McGonagall seemed to appear out of nowhere from the window Harry had caught Neville's ball. Seriously, did she teleport like he did on occasion?

Though this was hardly the time to think about that with her staring at them with such intensity.

"Both of you, come with me," she dictated.

"But Professor-!" Hermione tried to intervene.

"Boys," she commanded. Both Ron and Harry followed, their heads lowered slightly. Ron, being taller, couldn't quite see all of Harry's face. But he did notice that he seemed to just all but scream, fear. Well, teachers could be terrifying. His Aunt was when she was training cocky newbies.

There were no words said as they entered the castle. Taking many twists and turns they finally approached a room.

"Professor Flitwick, I need to see Wood."

Ron stiffened. Wood? Like a ruler or something? For physical punishment? Oh god. He knew this school was practically medieval but this... This was not okay. Harry seemed to think the same thing as his head was lifted and fear grew in his eyes. The boys looked at one another, their breaths growing slightly more shallow until a tall boy stood up. He looked to be about Percy's age and appeared to be confused.

He joined them in the hall and ended up following them to another room.

"Mr. Wood, I have found a seeker."

The taller boy, or Wood as Ron just realized beefed and began looking both Harry and Ron over. Ron's face scrunched up as the guy seemed to have lost all concept of personal space.

"Mr. Potter caught this," Professor McGongall spoke showing Neville's ball, "at a thirty foot dive. Not even Charlie Weasley could have done it without a scratch," she added placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Alright. Well he is certainly built to be a seeker. Ever play Quiditch?"

"Erm... No. I haven't," Harry shyly responded.

"We'll have to start training you then. You'll need a broom. Cleansweep perhaps."

"We'll look into it. Perhaps bend the rule about first years having their own brooms. Goodness knows we have to do better than last year. I couldn't look Severus in the face for weeks."

Ron raised a brow. He was so confused.

"Are you following any of this Harry?" He whispered just loud enough for his fellow first year and friend to hear him.

"Um... I don't think we're in trouble but... Not really."

"Oh. Good, so I'm not the only one who's confused."

Both McGonagall and Wood then focused in on Ron.

"And he is?"

"Mr. Weasley-Barton. He took after Harry on a school broom. It would be beneficial to keep him in mind for reserve chaser. He was very aware of Harry and didn't try to cut him off on the broom."

"Good instincts. You said Weasley right? Like Charlie's brother?"

Before Ron could say anything, Professor McGonagall continued to control the conversation with Wood.

"Mr. Weasley-Barton is Charlie's younger brother."

There was a spark in Wood's eyes at the confirmation.

"Yes. We'll need to get you into the air too-"

"For what exactly?" Ron questioned. Now Wood looked confused, as if Ron should know what he was thinking or talking about.

"For Quiditch of course."

"I'm sorry, but what makes you think we'll be doing this Wuiditch thing?"

Wood looked absolutely scandalized.

"It's Quiditch. Not Wuiditch. And it's only the best sport in the history, nay, the existence of mankind! It's only the most important..."

Wood continued on, lost in his own words of glorifying what appeared to be his favorite hobby. McGonagall took over speaking to both Harry and Ron.

"You boys went against Professor Hooch's orders to remain on the ground. However, I will not punish you if you work hard and listen to Wood. If you don't, I will have to look back into a suitable punishment."

Ron was certain this wasn't normal to any school. However, he recognized what she was doing. His Uncle Nick did this with agents who proved to have skills that were otherwise unknown through means they shouldn't have done. This was a trade off. Do something for yourself or incredibly stupid, but have a positive skill revealed, and the skill is exploited. He was now ever more thankful Harry caught the ball. He wasn't one for the spotlight anyway.

 **Anyone else have those friends who would get into a fight, not talk to each other for days, but as soon as something goes wrong with another mutual friend they are ready to go mess up anyone who dared hurt their friend, only coming out closer than they were before they fought?**

 **Cause I know a few like that. They kind of scare me.**

 **And on a side note, for curiosity's sake, there is a poll on my page. It pertains to the Weasley family. I will not say more** **because if I do, people will just mention it in the reviews. Fill it if you want to. Or not. Either way is fine.**

 **Lastly, my obligatory, Please Review.**


	8. Letters

Ron was absolutely bewildered with their head of house. Was this how his dad felt when he had to do some obscure mission because of something he did against orders? If so, he had a lot more respect for his dad and Aunt Tasha than he did before for consistently going to only mostly follow orders.

He didn't want to be involved in the school, despite being sent there. But he supposed, that being involved with whatever this broom game thing was, would make him busier, making time go by faster. And time going faster meant seeing his dad sooner. So avoiding too much trouble, and getting a time waster wasn't the worst he could do. And he wrote as much to his dad.

' _Dear Dad,_

 _I'm not liking writing with this stupid feather thing. It looks stupid when I print like you taught me. Well... I guess you can see that. Mione said she's going to teach me cursive soon. Apparently it doesn't look have as bad with all the loops._

 _It's not so bad here. It's definitely not home. Everything is made of stone and really old. This place is even haunted. I've seen some ghosts dad. We've got one for my dorm called Nearly Headless Nick. I heard from some older kids he was going to be beheaded but it didn't go right. Wonder what that has to do with Gryffindors?_

 _Oh right. Remember how you tried to listen in on how school was going to go? Apparently those four houses were just a way to seperate students. Guess how they do it!_

 _They stick an old smelly hat on your head and places you in one of them._

 _Really._

 _I ended up with Mione and Neville in Gryffindor. I also made a friend. His name is Harry and he's a celebrity. I think. Some of the students are calling him The Boy Who Lived. I really don't get it._

 _Do you dad? Wait. I guess not. Must be a wizard thing. Mione tried to explain it to me but it didn't make any sense. Something about a magical terrorist trying to kill him and failed. Neville told me it was the terrorist's followers were the ones who probably kidnapped me. Dad I-'_

Ron stopped For a moment and began to cross out the last paragraph. He didn't want his dad to worry about what had happened when he was a baby. And while it was mentioned in court, he didn't want to address it. He then began writing a bit more uplifting message.

' _He's still not as famous as Tony though. Hey, message me when you can. And give Aunt Nicky, Aunt-Uncle Fitzsimmons, Aunt Tasha and Uncle Phil hugs and kisses for me please.'_

Ron looked over at the message and scratched kisses out of the message. He was not a sissy. A hug would do for now.

' _Lots of love,_

 _Ronnie Archer Barton.'_

Ron didn't bother changing Ronnie to Ron. Despite his protests, he liked it when his dad would playfully call him Ronnie.

He blew on the parchment to help it dry. Once he was satisfied, he picked up the parchment and folded it as evenly as he could into a parchment of envelope and sealed it shut. Recalling what Neville told him, he wrote his dad's name on the parchment. The ink bled into the parchment, and an address appeared. Ron smiled seeing that his dad was in Europe.

Neville had explained that there were envelopes made for muggleborn students to give to their parents to send letters to their children, given that Hogwarts didn't have a quite known fixed location. It didn't make any sense to Ron but it apparently made sense to the Owls who delivered them.

And while he couldn't see the address his dad was located, he knew he was still around. At least from what he could understand.

Ah, his mind hurt.

He stood up and walked into the common room holding his letter.

"Ready Ron?" Neville asked, his own letter in hand.

"Uh huh. Harry, Mione, you coming?"

"Sure. I'd like to see Hedwig."

"Hedwig?" Hermione asked.

"Saint Hedwig? Is she a ghost here? I've read about her in Hogwarts, A History. She was a Germanic witch who perfected the method of removing bezoars from goats' stomachs in humane and quick methods. Oh I have so many questions-"

"Um."

"Uh..."

"Mione? Please calm down."

"Hedwig is...?" Neville prompted Harry.

"Oh. Erm... My snowy owl."

"Oh, sorry. I just was so excited."

Ron smiled a little. It was funny to see someone so energetic.

The four made their way to the Owlery where he was stunned by all the beautiful feathered creatures. Especially Harry's Hedwig. She was just such a pretty stark difference to the otherwise brown and reds that dominated the Owlery. Even Neville and Hermione were rather taken with Harry's pretty bird. Harry allowed Neville to use his owl to deliver his letter, not having to travel very far. Hermione and Ron handed their letters to school owls.

The birds took off into the rapidly darkening night sky. The four smiled as they scurried down to the common room, one bird leaving towards Neville's home, the other two, to the ministry to be cycled in and forwarded to America... Or wherever his dad was.

* * *

Clint smiled. Though it was a bit odd to see someone marred in soot and blood to be smiling, he had come out relatively unharmed along with his partner and friend. And his hearing aid didn't die! Thank goodness for small miracles.

As it was, he was sitting in the Quinjet, absolutely filthy as they made their way back to headquarters to avoid whatever government group they had just pissed off. Clint took this time to finish his little day by day log to mail to Ron. He signed the messy sprawl of an excuse of a letter and folded the paper.

He reached into his quiver and pulled out a false bottom and slipped an envelope from the hidden compartment.

He stuffed his letter into the envelope which he slipped back into the quiver for safe keeping.

"You seem pleased."

"I get to shower in an actual bathroom. Of course I'm pleased."

"A shower? Really?"

"Got to enjoy the little thing Nat," he explained, thinking of the letter.

 **Eh. I like letters. And I am not dead. I live. I'll update again, once I can.**

 **Oh an as for the letter thing... Call it fanfiction. This is something that just happens to work with the story.**


	9. A Strange lesson indeed

"I hate this," Ron said collapsing inside the castle on one of the benches. Harry had a wild and gleeful grin. One far too large in Ron's opinion. Considering one of the balls could very well kill somebody. Damn these wizards were freaking insane. Who was the maniac who came up with this insane sport anyway? Ron was sure they were some escapee from a psyche ward or something.

"I thought it was fun," Harry remarked. Ron gave him a slightly irritated glare. Harry didn't seem bothered as Ron rolled his eyes and moaned dramatically.

"You weren't the one having a large ball lobbed at you repeatedly."

"I did have golf balls."

"But those are smaller. And he waited until you caught it before theowing another. And where did he even get golf balls? Do wizards even play golf?" Ron questioned trying to imagine Strange or any of the professors in plaid, caddy hats and white pants. OH no. Bad image. _Bad_ image. Some teachers would be terrifying dressed like that.

Besides, he had other things he needed to focus on. Like his lesson with Strange. It was late, but Ron really didn't want him to think he didn't want to learn.

Wow that sounded strangely like Hermione. But it was how he felt. Ever since he discovered his powers, he wanted to know what he could do and what they were. Learning it was magic and his possibilities were quite wide, he just wanted to see what he could do.

"Erm no. I don't really know. Though, my Uncle Vernon has played a few rounds," Harry muttered with a grimace. Maybe his uncle looked bad in plaid like most of the teachers probably would. Ron stood from the bench and continued on with Harry.

Ron still needed to grab his gloves after all. Strange had said that he would need them... Or was it that they'd be useful? He really couldn't recall. Still, it didn't hurt to get his gifted white gloves.

* * *

"Son of a bitch," Tony grumbled seeing that Clint and Natasha had decided that instead of the sensible and less annoying choice of going to a, oh he didn't know, a hospital, they decided to drag their bleeding asses onto the leather couch Pepper had just purchased. She was going to kill him.

And he was going to kill Clint who was doing most of the bleeding while scrolling through his channels.

"Afternoon Iron Ass."

"It's-" Tony glanced over at a clock, "-3:12 and you're bleeding out in front of my TV."

"Not bleeding out. It's mostly stitched up and dry. Natasha does a good job."

"And you didn't go to a hospital?"

"Aw tin man you do have a heart," Clint jokingly gushed. Tony rolled his eyes at the banged up archer. Natasha sat in a relaxed yet still intimidating pose with two stitches by her hairline.

"Not for much longer bird brain. Pepper's going to kill me."

"Scared of your girlfriend?"

"As much as you are of her," Tony remarked pointing towards Natasha. Clint blinked but sagely nodded with a quiet, "Touché."

* * *

Strange's lips quirked upwards as Ron walked into their room for study, followed by three curious individuals. Two of which, he had seen even if he had not met in person.

Ron gave a half hearted glare that was completely ruined by his pouting lower lip.

"I see you have brought company to your lesson. Are you nervous?" Strange joked. Ron gave a sheepish smile towards his teacher.

"Sorry Doctor Strange. My friends wanted to see where I was going and, well... They followed."

Strange nodded and gave a small gesture towards the three who followed his apprentice.

"Oh uh. This is Hermione," Ron began introducing the three, "Neville," he followed pointing to the larger boy, "and Harry. They're all in my house."

"I see," he chuckled in response, "I am glad to see you all here taking an interest in Ron's lesson," he began enrapturing the group's attention, "However, Ron is my apprentice. And as such, he is the one I am focusing on teaching."

Hermione frowned slightly and the boys just seemed to shrug it off.

Ron looked puzzled for a moment. Huh, for a moment he thought he had to share his teacher. Wasn't that what most adults did when dealing with multiple kids.

"Oh," Hermione spoke softly looking rather embarrassed. Strange gave a warm smile.

"If it is alright with Ron however, you may use the table over there," he gestured to a table that seemed to appear out of nowhere with three chairs, "and work on some of your homework while I teach." Ron gave a small nod of consent.

The three shrugged and walked over to the table as Strange and Ron stood.

Strange waited until the three reluctantly pulled out their books and parchment and began reading and writing. Strange then faced Ron and pulled a small jar out of his pocket.

Ron looked curiously at the object. Was there something magical about it? Was there something invisible inside?

"There is nothing magical about the jar. Not yet."

Ron looked up at Strange with a curious glint present in his eyes.

"Ron, what class is next to this one?"

"Professor Snape's class."

"And what does Professor Snape teach?"

"Potions. He teaches the potions class."

"Correct. Now, he has many ingredients yes?"

"Uh huh," Ron responded listening with rapt attention and confusion as Hermione, Neville and Harry focused more on their school work. This was his first lesson as an apprentice. A one on one learning oppertunity.

"And those ingredients have magical properties. What do you think would happen if you performed magic around those ingredients?"

Ron stood frozen for a moment, puzzled. What was he talking about? Items for magic, used to make magic... What would happen if magic happened around them?

"Would they use up their magic? And make them not work in the potions?" Ron asked. Strange kept his smile but shook his head.

"Not quite. But magic in proximity can affect ingredients for potions. It can make the ingredient stronger, more concentrated. It can dilute it, making it weaker. It can also alter the composition and change the effects of the potion to a more, disagreeable effect."

"Is that why Professor Snape said we wouldn't be working with our wands in class?"

"Most likely. Although, most Wizarding spells don't create as much havoc to the ingredients as other branches of magic."

"But what you're teaching me-?"

"Most of it will. We are going to prevent the problem before it occurs."

"How are we going to do that with a jar?" Ron questioned.

"Our first lesson, will be how to create a barrier."

"A barrier? Like a shield?"

"More like a magical bubble. As long as the object stays closed, the barrier is well preserved. We will be working on placing barriers on jars, and then, the room."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Magic," Strange chuckled. Ron huffed.

"Magic."

"Sorceror typing of magic. You won't need your wand for this. But I advise you put your gloves on. They'll assist in your control and prevent any magical afflictions with your skin."

"Afflictions?"

"Issues. Ailments. Like burns, or rashes."

"Ouch."

"Indeed," Strange commented as Ron quickly put his gloves on, still slightly large on his hands.

"Now, words are important when it comes to spell work as your teachers have told you. In the case of Sorceror magic, words are used when learning or when performing what needs to be a strong spell. Words are powerful tools. In this case, the words you will be using are, Tendicula Parma."

"Tendicula Parma," Ron mimicked. Strange nodded.

"Tendicula Parma. Simply, it means trap shield. It protects what is trapped within."

"And is this limited to jars? Or could this be used on a room?"

"Eventually. This spell is a base for warding many rooms. But before the room, we start with the jar," he said handing the small jar to Ron.

"So what do I do?"

Strange pulled another jar from who knew where and placed a hand on the lid of the jar. He mumbled the words just loud enough for Ron to hear as his fingers traced the edge of the jar. A soft blue light appeared inside the jar and enveloped the entire jar.

"This is how you will start. Once you are comfortable and successful with this method, we will continue for less hand motions."

"Okay. Let me try!" Ron said excitedly. He held the jar outstretched in his hand. He spoke the spell with the same grace Strange had and moved his hand quickly along the seam. There was perhaps a slight flicker of light at best making Ron frown.

He tried again. And again. But nothing seemed to work. And his hands were tingling after the seventeenth time. He voiced as much to Strange.

"That's normal. Your magic has been reacting to Wizarding magic. Now Sorceror magic is similar, but feels different from your wizard magic."

"But isn't magic all the same?"

"Are all individuals the same?"

"No. Of course not."

"And just like how no two individuals are perfectly identical, neither are their magic. Even two wizards are skilled naturally in different fields. Similarly to how no two have perfectly identical wands."

"Okay."

Strange was about to continue when his face fell slightly. He looked towards a mirror in the room and waved his hand before it. A man appeared that Ron recognized. Apparently Neville did too as he jumped from his chair and fell to the floor. Hermione and Harry looked over in surprise as Neville stood up.

"Hello Wong. Is there trouble?"

"Regretably so."

"I see. I'm sorry Ron, but I must go. Keep practicing on the jar."

"How will I know when I've done it? Other than the light?"

"You'll know. You'll feel a slight drain. And your fingers may feel a little stiff, followed by a loose sensation in your arms after the first few successful times. Once your body has grown used to it, you'll be able to know once it is cast without needing to rely on your body's reaction."

"Ah thanks. I'll see you later Doctor Strange," Ron said as Strange walked to a fireplace. Ron jumped as it burst into flames and he disappeared. There was a shuffling of parchment and books.

"So a jar?" Neville asked. Ron gave him a light shove. Harry took a look at the small glass object.

"It looks like it's going to be interesting."

"It sounds like wards. I've read about them. They're meant to keep out specific entities or hide locations," Hermione began to prattle. Ron twisted the jar in his hand again. It had seemed simple enough. And when he attempted with any of the spells in class, he usually got something. A flick, a movement, some change in shape. But this had almost nothing.

The four began their later trek to their dormitory as Hermione began to wind down from her uninterrupted explanation of a Wizarding equivalent of what Ron was doing. Neville's eyes seemed slightly glazed and Harry just seemed to be trying to follow Hermione's quick worded explanation.

They came to their door portrait and recited the password opening the door. Inside, the male prefect of Gryffindor Percy Weasley stood inside.

"You're here. Good. Curfew starts in three minutes," Percy commented ushering them inside. The group filed in quickly and said their good nights to Hermione as she entered her dormitory.

The boys began their retreat to bed, looking forward to whatever the next day would bring them.

 **Blarg. Nap time is good time. But as some of you might know, for some reason Spiderman has found a way to hijack my brain recently. Hence, the long time in coming this chapter. However this is a chapter I have really wanted to do. Even the focus of the spell.**

 **Well, I will write more as soon as I viably can.**


	10. Above the law?

Beyond the walls of Hogwarts, yet not so far as to cross the seas, wizards and witches had taken to gossip over the choice of the court just the few months prior. The common place rumors and tales of the savior going to Hogwarts for his first year had slid to the sidelines for a moment as far few had details of his life.

And such a large family reuniting with their stolen child? Even the most disinterested wizards kept their ears open for any information on the situation. Many witches and wizards rallied in the beliefs backing that the Weasleys should have their blood born son with them as was tradition. A few of the pure bloods believed that he should be integrated into the society by a patient family with fewer children to fully _enrich_ the boy with his otherwise unknown heritage.

The muggleborn page though, a few of them didn't know what to think. Some were disowned by their families because of their "Satanic powers". Some were left in orphanages when they received their letter. Others were accepted by some of their loved ones and scorned by others. A few, far few, had been adopted by good people who cared for them despite their magical powers. They had found their way more often than not. But each had been behind closed doors to their now relief.

There were rumors. He knew some very important muggles. The ones who combated the dangerous Loki. The muggle born magical individuals had read and walked into nonmagical society to find out more that the magical society was willing to delve into. The event ended in America, and by the hands of muggles no less. The fact that it was over was good enough for many.

Although, it was still connected to the gossip of the youngest Weasley. Gossip that existed especially deep within the ministry. Even down to the international distribution of mail.

"The nerve of that fiend. Fighting to keep a child from his culture, no, his very birth right," an overly sweet and high pitched voice slipped from a toad faced woman.

"Too right," a man commented watching the Owls drop off the mail. He was a common wizard working a dead end job in the ministry. A son of two half bloods. And a fervent believer of family unity.

He was angry at the news of the Weasley Barton case. It agitated him that this man was able to single handed ly rip the family apart. He knew. He read in the papers the hints and accusations that the man had taken the child from a death eater. Oh he could believe that. Because obviously Bellatrix gave the child to some American Death Eater. There was no way someone as dangerously psychotic as that woman could have been felled by a mere muggle. Many witches and wizards had died by her hand, far more prepared than this man claimed to be.

There was no way this man wasn't involved with death eaters in the eyes.

"The child isn't even able to spend time at home. Forced to cross the seas when he is free of school during the summer," the woman commented with a sweet and slightly bitter tone. A smile twisted at the corner of her lips, unseen by the worker. She walked slowly past the bins of international letters bound for leaving Europe.

A small bin that held more letters from government officials rather than a common letter to say hello.

Pit was sent out about once every three days or so, given the amount of magic used to get the letters to the needed country and the small amount that was sent day to day. She arched a brow and lightly fingered through the letters, all but one of professional quality. She gently lifted the letter and gave it a once over. Her eyes followed the messy scrawl of someone who had never used a quill before. The writing of a child with an odd sticker thing in the corner.

"He even sends letters to the man," she spoke again getting the full attention of the worker. He watched the letter in her hand, as she gently placed it back in the front of the letters, slightly angled further separating it from the uniformity.

The worker's eyes darted from the letter to the walking woman once more as she walked to the bin with a few more letters from outside of Europe coming in, and slowly fingered through each one until she saw another letter with the odd sticker thing in the corner.

The writing was not from a quill, but held a clarity and neatness to the words of someone familiar with the tool of their choice.

"And he sends letters as well. It makes you wonder what he writes to the child, asking questions. About his magic? Perhaps. Does he write about school? Would he write asking about something so mundane?"

She placed the letter back in the bin clearly visible.

"But well... We'll never know. The law frowns upon those who read others mail," she stated ominously, "Anyway, I must be off."

She grabbed her few professional letters and walked out of the room. The man stared at the two bins.

Two letters.

One criminal. One victim.

But the child felt he needed the man. A man who brainwashed a young child. The words of the woman echoed in his mind.

 _The law frowns upon those who_ read _others mail._

The word read echoed in his mind. His eyes sparked with a mad idea.

He could help. He could be active. He could help free the child from the dark clutches of the vulture who took him. The man quickly grabbed the two letters from the bins and walked over to a lit candle.

Slowly, he lowered the letters into the fire of the candle slowly. A small smile appeared on his face as the letters burned before his eyes. Afterall, who would remain close to someone who wouldn't talk to them?

 **Yes. This idea has been stewing for a while. However, other fanfictions demanded my attention. Some more, happy chapters and fics. But with our dog being brought into an animal hospital for rapidly rupturing fatty deposits (deposits we knew were fairly common among the breed...), finding out she had an aggressive skin cancer and a dangerous infection that seemed to have made it into her lungs...**

 **We had to put her down yesterday. She was pretty well bleeding out from her chest, elbow and side.**

 **Add the death of a bunny my sister owned and the death of about half a litter my other sister owned, this felt like a better chapter to be working on.**

 **I know Ron and the others aren't in this chapter, but I'd figure this would be good to post as is.**

 **Thank you for your time.**


	11. Paranoid?

Ron was finally used to the cockamamie schedule that the magical castle seemed to keep.

Despite learning where the classes were, his body wasn't fully set for the British castle until the beginning of October. From his eating to his sleeping, everything was off.

Thankfully, though others may have argued, the days were long and busy making it easier to fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion the first few weeks as their bodies adjusted to the strain of using their magic, the running around the school, and reading theory and technical work until there was only stars in the sky.

Ron had even more though as he continued trying to use the spell Strange had told him.

He had gotten a few sparks. A soft glow every now and again. But it felt so... Odd.

He barely felt anything with the magic in class. Most of it seemed to be focus driven, with a handful of natural talent. Some could do it quickly, others, not so much.

It was so unlike Strange's magic. When he tried to work the barrier, all he felt was a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers. A slight burning when he grew agitated.

Although, he fared better than Hermione. He knew she attempted the spell Strange tried to teach him. It had been two days after his lesson when he witnessed her attempting the spell. She had poise, confidence and control that she boasted well in class.

However, when she attempted the spell, she had no light or glimmer, instead, she yelped in pain and dropped her jar. The glass shattered at her feet and her fingertips were blistered horribly, as though they had been burned. Ron froze, uncertain of what to do. But Hermione didn't call out. She looked at the glass littering the floor. Her breathing was slightly shaky and she leaned down, quickly picking up the broken glass, irritation evident on her face far more so than any pain she was feeling.

Ron had slid away, not wanting to confront the girl he practically lived with now.

Besides... His Aunt and Uncle did the same things with new techniques. His Aunt Tasha had learnt many body positions passed from dad's circus days where as dad had learned more violent and torturous means of extracting information from certain individuals otherwise unable to be broken.

The rule among spies, if you want it to be a secret, never let those who see it live as they were. Break them, or end them. At least, that was what his Aunt Tasha would say.

Still, he wasn't going to go out of his way to help her. Perhaps it was his own selfishness, a desire to keep something just to himself. Especially considering how Hermione seemed to be top witch out of the first years. She was incredibly bright.

So the barrier he was working on with Strange, he would learn, and he was sure he'd be better. Or at least faster at learning the damn thing.

But that wasn't what he was thinking about, it was what he was _writing_ about.

It was his third letter to his dad. He knew his dad was busy being a secret agent, but he really wanted something from his dad. Or Aunt Tasha... Or Uncle Nick. His Auntuncle Fitzsimmons or Uncle Phil... Anyone from back home. But they were busy no doubt. What with the chaos of having to step out of the shadows slightly with the Loki incident, the blow to their numbers from the fight, and those who quit shortly after left everyone with little time.

And it wasn't like there were many agents who would willing take over for them for a few minutes so they could breath and reply back. Despite growing up on the Helicarrier, few agents really knew him. More knew _of_ him. He was rarely alone, sans being in his and his father's abode or the different ventures in the air vents. So there were quite a large population of agents who had never met him, nor even believe he existed, passing him off as a myth for new recruits.

He smiled thinking back to one agent he had scared, a man who screamed like a little girl. He hadn't seen him since, but the ship was large and regretfully, not everyone lived to see another day.

He signed his name at the bottom of the letter and blew lightly on it.

He stood up and walked away to use the bathroom-the loo as the British called it. It was a ways off, down a hall and down some stairs. Nothing he wasn't used to by now.

But it was something that others were used to as well. Namely, two third year twins who slipped into the room mere moments after Ron had left.

"Watch the door Forge,"

"Got it Gred," the two whispered loudly. One twin darted to the table, quickly pulling out his wand. He tapped the table a few times before hissing to his duplicate, "What was the spell again?"

"Gemino."

"Right. _Gemino,"_ the twin at the table cast with a flick of the wand at the target. Before their very eyes, the parchment duplicated, an identical copy lay innocently next to the original. Quickly, the twin at the table grabbed the original and moved the copy in the same position the original had been. Then, in their own sneaky fashion, the twins rushed out of the room before Ron entered the hallway to his and his roommates sleeping quarters.

"I still can't believe we're doing this."

"Oh come off it. You heard what his friends said. Not one letter? Not a one? We might not like the guy but you know he would've written _something_. He was even trying to get to know Bill and Charlie."

"I know. Still, this is just crazy."

"Oh calm down and write the note," Fred commented putting the card in an envelope, one of the ones his dad would use for more, professional notices, "What was the guy's name again?"

"Barton I think. That's what Ron likes to be called anyway."

"Merlin we're bad brothers. Can't even remember our brother's last name."

"Most brothers share the same last name."

"Too right you are. Done with the note yet?"

"Give me a moment... Here, sign your name."

"There. Now just to dry and get this to an owl."

"Don't forget to put the _return_ envelope inside."

"Right," Fred commented sliding in a slightly folded envelope with the Hogwarts address and their names on it. Large enough to hold an envelope with a letter tucked inside. It was only a mere two minutes later when the ink was dry and the envelope sealed.

"Let's get this to the Owlery."

* * *

"Clint. You have a visitor," Natasha commented seeing a hawk pecking at Tony's window. She watched as he continued reading the paper as if he hadn't- Natasha's face hardened as she walked over to the mostly deaf archer. She stood in front of him, being completely ignored by the reading archer.

She placed one hand at the top of the paper gently, contradicticting her stony irritation. He glanced up at her and, despite recognizing her irritation, gave a large grin.

"Morning."

"Morning. Mail's here," she said slightly faster than normal to make it trickier for him to read her lips. Still, he picked up on it just fine and adjusted his hearing aid to hear the rapid tapping from the window.

A large smile blossomed on his face as he rushed over to the window, asking Jarvis to open it. Begrudgingly, the computer replied, letting in a burst of cold autumn air and the feathered creature. It held a large letter, and a coin pouch for the overseas payment. Clint just pulled out a ten and slipped it in, taking the letter.

The bird then flew out and the Windows sealed shut as Clint opened the letter similarly to a child opening presents on their birthday.

His look of joy went to confusion seeing a letter, an envelope and a note. The note was in the front, written by someone other than Ron. He plucked the note out and placed it on the kitchen counter, and began to read the letter clearly written by Ron. He talked about school classes, Strange's lesson in creating "barriers", and his friends who he acted as though Clint already knew for some reason...

Well he knew Hermione and Neville. Neville had been Alice's son and the guide through Diagon Alley. And Hermione had lived with them in the month and a half prior to the whole Hogwarts debacle.

Still, the letter mentioned Harry in the familiar. Was he supposed to know the kid?

It was then his eyes drifted back to the note. He picked it up and read over it carefully.

' _Greetings Mr. Barton._

 _This is Forge writing on behalf of lost mail everywhere.'_

Clint blinked in confusion.

 _"_ What the hell?"

 _'Gred and I have come to an understanding that Ickle Ronniekins, has not received a letter from you. For shame Mr. Barton. For shame.'_

 _"_ What the actual hell."

' _So we have taken it upon ourselves to send another copy of Ronnie's letter. Double sure you get it and all. Can't stand seeing a mopey firstie you know. Especially our brother._

 _Inside, the envelope, there is a return envelope. Apparently it's a popular muggle thing. Dad was talking about it and... Well we think we got the idea of it._

 _Mail it to us. And we'll make sure Ron gets it. We solemnly swear,_

 _Gred and Forge.'_

"Natasha. Wizards are crazy."

"Mm hm." Natasha nodded reading the letter from Ron.

"Apparently, Ron hasn't gotten any of my letters."

Natasha put down the letter and had a somber but steeled look to her face.

"That doesn't surprise me."

"It doesn't for me either but still..."

"You know SHIELD can't do anything."

"I know. Out of logical and country jurisdiction. But we could always call MAGIC-"

"It won't get very far if you're the only person being effected."

"Hate crime?"

"With those medieval individuals?"

"Have I mentioned my dislike of politics? Why can't I just run in and spy, maybe beat up a few people."

"Please. You're a hated person over there. They'd stick to you like glue."

"Oh right. Dammit. Hey Tash-"

"They know my face. And Tony's and Bruce's."

"What about Steve?"

"Cross country."

"Damn. Alright. I'll send two. One with theirs and one without. They better not read it," he grumbled quickly walking to a notepad to write his letter. And a note for the conspiring troublesome duo. Something short and right to the point.

 **And here is another scene I had planned way in advance. Yes that's right. All this "nonsense" was planned.**

 **Ah ha. I guess I am mad.**


	12. Oh, danger, Wave as it goes by kids

Halloween rolled around with vigor and wild energy. Ron had been positively gleeful with the arrival of a very long letter from his dad, apologizing for the lack of letters. Harry seemed excited but also a bit forlorn. Ron and Hermione had been surprised to learn that Harry's parents had been murdered on a Halloween night.

Kind of horror movie like to Ron, but who was he to comment? Harry didn't talk about his home life, but knowing your parents were murdered and the killer attempted to take your life too, it would mess any sane person up. So they didn't really talk about it leading up to Halloween.

Instead, Neville talked about little Wizarding traditions including the feasts and celebrating the spooks and wizards who impacted the community. Making spiced soul cakes for children who went door to door.

Hermione talked about the little costume parties that her parents took her to when she was younger. Ron nor Harry really talked about their past Halloween experiences. Ron had just went across the Helicarrier and knocked on doors, getting candy from agents he knew. Harry probably went door to door too. Just on the streets of Britian rather than the sky with people hopping from room to room to get him hyped up on sugar.

Although, all four were looking forward to their first Halloween at Hogwarts, even if Ron had to distract Hermione. Apparently, all holidays were hard when they were the first ones after the death of parents. She had a particularly rough time after Professor Flitwick's class where a few of the girls got a little catty and irritated at Hermione. While she seemed determined to hide away, Ron, Neville and Harry had all taken her aside for a game of exploding snap. She seemed to feel better, even if her eyes were slightly red rimmed. She seemed to light up when Ron asked her for some help with the spell they were working on in Professor Flitwick's class. A levitation charm, and apparently, a teaching of core movements of spell work.

Neville had gotten it after a few tries. At least his quill. He was still slightly nervous about lifting larger items and while he could get them into the air, his nerves would get the better of him and the object would fall. He would blush a little, but would try again. Harry took a little longer, but was more consistent and more confident. Ron however was failing in each and everyway. It was frustrating. He had only been able to lift his feather maybe an inch before falling back to the table.

Hermione had said it was his pronunciation. Maybe it was. But he was trying. Everything sounded strange with the British accents. He thought he was saying it right, but the stressing was different apparently when pronounced.

However, despite his shortcomings, Hermione was feeling better than she had after class.

They were even able to get her to dinner, where there was a large feast waiting and candies everywhere. Oh the sugar rush.

They had all sat down and began to dig into the feast with their fellow students when the doors flew open. In came in a hysteric Professor Quirrel, their questionably sane Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, screeching at the top of his lungs.

"Troll! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" he screamed before his voice dipped down to a quiet and breathy whisper, "Thought you ought to know," before collapsing on the ground. Ron thought it was all some sort of joke when everyone started to get anxious and worried. It wasn't until Dumbledore stood tall and addressed the populace did it hit Ron that this wasn't some holiday gag or trick. Percy seemed to be in his element once they were told to go back to their dormitory to finish their meal. He called out and led the Gryfindors in a march to the Fat Lady's portrait, with the first years in the center of the group and the seventh and sixth years along the perimeter, in case the troll were to make a sudden appearance.

Despite tense moments, no one had seen the troll and they made it safely to the Fat Lady. Quickly, they all slipped inside and made themselves comfortable in the large common room. Ron sat on a couch with Harry and Neville on either side and Hermione next to Harry. Meals began appearing before everyone, still filling and tasty, but rather than large plates and bowls strewn everywhere in a large buffet style, everyone was given a large plate filled to the brim with a variety of foods. Some had more of certain types than others. It seemed like... Their favorites.

Weird. And kind of creepy truth be told. The old, walls have eyes thing, his dad talked about jokingly on the ship, seemed all to real. And the more he thought about it, the pictures could talk so...

Oh that was unsettling. Not as much as JARVIS when they first began their stay with Tony but still...

"Ron? Aren't you going to eat?" Neville asked. Ron gave a small smile.

"Yeah, just a little weird how the food I like here in the castle just appeared on my plate."

"Oh, s'that all?"

"Fun little trick huh?" Two familiar voices spoke up.

Ron held back a groan but his instinctual irritated face appeared making his friends give awkward yet bemused smiles. He put his head in his hands, a poor attempt in hoping the twins would go away. Predictably, they did not.

"House elves do their best to keep an eye out for what students like."

"Friendly little bunch."

"They clean around the castle and cook in the kitchen."

"Stand up bunch they are."

"Marvelous fellows."

"Anyone want a cauldron cake?"

"Um what?" Ron interrupted completely thrown by their change and style of conversation. Usually, they tried to monopolize him and drag him off for "family bonding" time. This time though, they pushed their way into the little group. Creating a little pod of people.

"Cauldron cake. Oy! Lee. Toss us a few!" One of the twins called out.

"Wai- No! Don't toss those!" Percy interjected as Lee began tossing cakes to the twins. Percy rushed over and somehow, the twins took this as a challenge, trying to get everyone to toss them cakes. With laughter and amusement, students began tossing them candy and treats, forgoing their eating while watching the twins snatch treats as Percy attempted to put an end to the nonsense.

Harry and Neville were chuckling seeing the madness while Hermione looked conflicted between amused and horrified at the chaos. Ron couldn't help but quirk his lips upward slightly. How often had his family tossed food at one another when someone wasn't eating like they should. Fitz often got hit by Simmons. So many Oreos went to waste for that cause...

"Aha! Licorice wands!"

"Bertie Botts!"

"Gonna have to try harder Perc-"

"Locomotor Mortis!" Percy called out, his wand aiming at one of the twins who was moving to catch a licorice wand. His limber and fast moving legs locked together when he was hit by the purple light. His momentum and inability to move his legs ended with him inevitably kissing the floor. Ron snorted and then flushed red. Neville laughed at his friend's embarrassment along with Hermione and Harry. Ron eventually joined in on the laughter when the second twin fell to the floor on top of his duplicate.

"Oy! Fred! Get your arse off me!"

"I can't! My wand slipped out of my pocket!" He yelled back comically pointing at a wand about three feet away. He began to squirm on top of his twin trying to pull himself closer to his wand as George cried out about Fred needed to lay off the sweets. The students were laughing as Percy casually walked over and picked up Fred's wand.

"You two will be uncursed once you've learned your lesson. _Windgardium Leviosa,_ " he recited lifting Fred into the air with his own wand.

"Oh c'mon Perce!"

"Oh thank god! Wait Perce, don't you-ack! Put me down!"

"I will," he said putting him next to Fred, all cozy in the corner. He turned on his heels and faced the rest of the students.

"Don't start up again or I will take points from more than just these two." The students turned away from Percy, chuckling and talking with their dorm mates.

Percy sighed softly and walked over to the mountain of sweets accumulated by the house.

"Don't worry about the mess," he told the four, " It will diminish as people want their holiday sweets."

"Sure," Harry replied looking at the pile, and then his own plate.

"So... Erm... Enjoying your dinner?"

There were affirmatives from the four.

"Do you guys do that often?" Ron asked Percy.

"Eh, they enjoy making mischief. And well, someone's got to manage them. So yes. Generally they like to be the life of the party. That's why I took away Fred's wand."

"Won't they just use George's?" Hermione asked. A strange sort of grin appeared on Percy's face as he slipped another wand out of his sleeve.

"You took his wand too?"

"Call me a little paranoid with them. They liked to prank but could never get away with it with Bill or Charlie. And Ginny was the baby girl so anytime they pranked her they ended up in a lot of trouble. So I guess somewhere they figured, my age versus their numbers gave them better odds."

Percy, seemed to have joined in their little nonexistent conversation. From pranks, the conversation slowly turned back to the holidays.

Percy told odd stories of apparently a ghoul in the attic, the twins causing more problems, to which they would complain loudly when they heard Percy telling stories. All lies they said. Unless they were funny. In which case, they were probably true. Harry vaguely mentioned how he never really went trick or treating, how he would be there sometimes handing out candy.

Given that his parents had died that night, Ron could guess why he would not want to celebrate Halloween.

"What about you Ron? How does America celebrate?" Neville asked.

"Well, I don't know about America exactly... When I was two, I didn't exactly have a "traditional" Halloween. My dad took me to my Auntuncle Fitzsimmons and they gave me a lot of candy. Three to five, my dad thought it was a good idea to go trick or treating in New York. Queens I think. He dressed me up and we'd go door to door and get candy."

"What happened after that? You said three to five? Did you just stop?" Hermione asked. Ron gave a small smile. A laugh creeped out.

"No. Not exactly. You see... We still dressed up. And we still went door to door... Just not in New York... Not exactly. You see, my dad lived aboard an airship. And so did my Aunts and Uncles," he ignored Percy's momentary tenseness, "So someone got the bright idea that they should hide behind doors in different costumes and hand out candy to me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sad part was I didn't realize it until I was eight. My Uncle Phil was halfway through a costume change when I decided I would open the door instead of waiting for him to open it."

There were chuckles all around and Ron could feel his face heat up.

"How could you not recognize them?"

"I'm sorry, I was small and had master spies and overly enthusiastic scientists dressing in a variety of clothes and masks. How was I supposed to know! Hermione stop laughing," he whined as Hermione laughed particularly hard.

"I'm sorry Ron. I just can't see it."

"Just you wait. You will Mione."

* * *

"Gah! Dammit Clint!"

"Ahahahaha. Oh man Jarvis, tell me you recorded that," Clint laughed clutching his stomach as he laughed. He was dressed as a gory, ashen faced and bloody zombie and had actually hid in the industrial sized fridge to scare some poor unfortunate soul. The victim, was Tony. Who had screamed like a little girl that would probably put Bruce's ward's pipes to shame.

"Jarvis, kick Hawkass out."

"I'm afraid I cannot sir. Miss Potts has stated otherwise."

"Ugh. Remind me to rework you."

"Very good sir."

Clint kept his shit eating grin up as Tony glared in half irritation.

"Aw, c'mon Tony. Can't you take a joke?" He remarked.

"Yes," a smirk slowly came to Tony's face confusing Clint. It wasn't until he felt icy cold hands ghost the perimeter of his neck. He jumped and yelped, turning around quickly to see a stony faced Natasha.

"Oh god Natasha. Don't do that."

Clint was a little unnerved that Natasha kept her stony face.

"You got into my stash."

Clint paled. That statement shouldn't have been as terrifying as it was. But it was coming from his feared "partner" and was practically a sister to him.

To anyone who didn't know, Natasha had quite the sweet tooth and rarely induldged. However, she always knew when someone took something. And he knew that... But he was _really_ craving a chocolate bar and Tony was some sort of a fruit nut as all Clint could find were blueberries, strawberries and well, a lot of other berries. And he knew she had this really nice chocolate. He was going to replace it, but it looked like she found out before he could remember to do so.

"Na-Natasha. Look I know you're not happy-"

"Two seconds."

Clint wasted no time taking the two seconds to attempt to escape Natasha. She darted after him with fury.

"Jarvis, record this will you?"

"Of course sir."

 **I'm mad. Crazy. Absolutely bonkers.**

 **I need a hobby, I really do.**


	13. A man in a hut

"So this Hagrid man," Ron began as the four began the trek down towards, "He lives in a hut?"

"That's what he says. He's a nice man."

"I'm sure he is Harry."

Ron wasn't exactly sure what happened, but Harry's owl brought an invitation to meet some guy on the grounds Ron didn't think he knew. Well, truthfully, Ron hardly _knew_ anybody. What with the magic and the extra magic and the broom flying, he was just happy he had time to eat and sleep.

They group made their way to the edge of the grounds to a small shack that looked to be about the size of his and his dad's room back on the Helicarrier. Made of wood and next to a rather impressive garden. At least, for someone who has only seen window boxes and the garden at the Weasley home. It seemed so vibrant and full of harvestable veggies.

Large and plump squash and pumpkins seemed to be everywhere. It all seemed rather impressive considering what his dad would bring back to their room from the store or SHIELD's cafeteria.

Although, that could have been because of magic. Eh, he was sure it was fine.

Harry stood in front of the group of four and knocked on the door. There was loud barking from what sounded like a dog.

The wooden door opened to reveal a rather unforgettable man who ate at the teacher's table. Ron gaped slightly. The man was huge! He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so massive. And he was far more impressive up close.

"Ah 'arry! Good tah see yah."

His accent was thick and a little tricky to understand. Not the smooth, aristocratic tones many teachers used, or the aged guardian like voice of the older generation who spoke with more punctuated words. But kind of, laced with a tamed growl. A little raspier, and similar to Logan's voice when he really thought about it. He glanced over at Hermione and Neville who seemed to understand him perfectly well. Was it a British thing?

Probably. At least, it was what Ron told himself.

"Well, come inside. I've got plenty of tea cakes. Don't mind Fang."

Ron raised a brow but walked in right after Harry. The small building was abnormally hot. Or at least, uncomfortably so.

Everyone else seemed to think so too with a roaring fire burning in the hut under a large cauldron of sorts, with steam escaping from it's top. That seemed to be the source of the heat and then darted his eyes over to a moaning sound from a couch.

Ron's eyes widened seeing a large, squishy faced dog lying on a chair.

"Aw," Ron cooed, walking over to the dog and away from the source of the sweltering heat.

He just reacted to the lazy dog lying there and placed his hand on his head. He scratched behind the ears making one very happy slobbery pooch.

"Taken quite a shine to Fang eh?"

He used his other hand and began massaging the dog's face. Fang groaned but enjoyed the attention from the nimble fingers from the young red head.

"Eh heh. I just really like animals. Even this little guy, I guess," Ron said reaching into his pocket. He felt the warm fur of Scabbers, the rat Percy had given him and pulled him out.

The rat squeaked but allowed itself to be held, not really moving. Just twitching his nose. A lazy flick of the tail.

"He's been in your pocket?" Hermione asked wiping her brow.

"Yeah. Bit of a lazy lump. So he's not so bad to carry around."

"That was young Percy Weasley's rat."

Ron blinked at the giant of a man.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"His brothers, those twins took him and messed with their brother... You know you look like them."

Ron froze at the comment.

"What?" He held out the one worded question, "Psh... Nah. I'm just some other red head running around."

"No. No you look like them... And you talk different. You are Ron Weasley."

"Barton please. Or just Ron. Aw Scabbers do you really want to be back in my pocket?" Ron questioned at the squirming rat pawing at his sleeve. He slipped the rat into his pocket with Scabbers poking his head out innocently.

"Still got to be hot in your pocket. It's brutally hot in here," Neville commented fanning his face, "What are you cooking in here?"

"Oh Erm, ah, nothing important," he stammered looking away. Ron looked away from Fang and at Hagrid. His dad had taught him as a joke, to watch for stammering.

Stammering meant either a nervous tick, or they were doing something that they shouldn't.

The Couldron that was clearly bubbling and steaming. He walked over to the cauldron and squinted his eyes. Peering through smoke and steam he saw something black and shiny inside what appeared to be water. Long and oblong. And somewhat...

"Egg like? What is this?"

Neville furrowed his brow and walked over back to the cauldron and peered back inside. He jumped back and looked at Hagrid.

"You- you have-! Where did you-? When did-? Do you know what this is?" Neville squeaked gesturing at cauldron. His eyes were wide in confusion.

Hagrid shyly looked away.

"What?" Harry asked

"A dragon's egg!"

"Dragon's egg!" Ron gasped and looked back at the black object. Forget his family junk, this was going to hog all the attention. And this was pretty awesome, "Pet dragon!"

"It's illegal. Charlie- You're brother-" Neville spoke quickly, "He talks all about dragons. And the laws. Hagrid... You could be sent to Azkaban for having this."

There was a chill at his nervousness despite the heat.

Hagrid just gave a small smile.

"It'll all be fine. Don't you worry."

Neville frowned but didn't say anything more."

"So, how are your classes going?"

Everyone took turns talking about their classes and which teachers they liked best. Neville had taken time to go past the gardens for Herbology and was half decent at Charms. Hermione was gushing over McGonagall and the transfiguration class and well, just about everything else. Harry talked about how it didn't seem like Snape liked him.

"He's been taking points from me at just about everything," he commented. Ron had to admit, the man did seem to do that. But considering what they had seen happen when potions go wrong, curtesy of Dean and Seamus, Ron could guess that anyone would be cross and short tempered. His Uncle Nick was a prime example of that.

From classes, the conversation drifted to Quiditch where Harry showed his excitement along with Neville and Hermione as Ron spaced out slightly, picking up and taking a bite out of tea cake. He just about choked and his jaw felt sore. He was glad that the others were distracted as he slipped the tea cake in with Scabbers. The rat squeaked but Ron ignored it in favor of pretending he never bit into that rock like food object.

 **I apologize for taking so long to update. But three papers and a cat named Gryffindor prove to be very distracting. Apparently, the cat doesn't like to share. And he's not even my damn cat.**

 **Add that to a lack of Internet for about two weeks and somehow writing the first half of the next chapter before realizing I needed to write this one, well... You all can see my dilemma. Still, this is the newest installment and yet more proof that perfection is but sad ideology. Still, if anyone wants to tackle a story with this concept with different characters or different outcomes, remember, you have my blessing.**

 **And now the obligatory, please review.**


	14. A game in the sky

With the passing of Halloween, many students turned their focus to the cool, wet and sometimes crisp air of autumn promising a school airborn sport.

"Wuiditch," Ron whispered looking over the grandeur of the field.

"It's Quiditch Ron."

"Sh... I'm taking in the moment... Okay I'm done," he commented looking back at his friends, "Can we go back inside?"

"Ron."

"What? It's a bunch of people in flowing dresses on sticks flying in the air catching some magical balls."

"That's not exactly-"

"That is nothing like Quiditch!" A scandalized gasp interrupted. An ominous aura overcame the field as Oliver Wood approached the four.

"You released Wood. Now you'll pay."

"Guys no! Don't leave me with him!"

 **Okay so that is not the actual start of the chapter. I was just really distracted and thought about how Quiditch is played. Well, rereading it, not only would someone their age not easily say it, it is filled with innuendo. And while I could possibly make it work... I do not have the patience for it. Now on with the chapter. Lord have mercy on me. Now on with the actual chapter.**

After the sugar coma inducing Halloween day and a visit to the groundskeeper with everyone's favorite four man first years, a new spark slowly began to circulate through the stone halls of the castle. Chats and jests of Quiditch teams facing off for the Quiditch cup. An excitement between student, teacher and groundskeeper alike as Harry and Neville found common interest with the secret hiding dragons.

Meanwhile, Ron had been more focused on his lessons with magic. He had finally gotten the levitation spell to work, his mind able to reach its' goal with his wand. It didn't have the feel of grandeur that he was sure his magic under Strange would have. But he had been trying to pull it out.

He had light, he could feel a slight push and pull, but he was a little stumped. What was he missing?

"C'mon Ron. Wood said he wanted us out on the field," Harry interrupted Ron's musing. Ron sighed and pocketed the small jar.

"I hope it's just us," Ron grumbled. Harry gave a small sympathetic smile.

"It's not that bad."

"You're not the one with stalker twins."

"They just care for you."

"They stalk me Harry. They _stalk_ me."

"Ron, they just walked into the common room when you did. I don't think they're stalking you."

"Fine. Don't mind eating and my paranoia," Ron dramatically moaned making Harry laugh.

Both of them walked to the field and Ron grimaced seeing the entire team waiting with Wood.

"Oh Harry kill me now," he pleaded.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued on to meet the team. Ron frowned but followed after his dark haired friend. Hayes darting over to the grinning twins every so often to make sure they weren't doing anything "funny".

"Alright everyone," Wood spoke, addressing the team, "Everyone, this is Harry. Our new Seeker. And Ron. New potential."

"New potential and Seeker. Loving these titles," Ron joked.

"Alright enough jokes. Everyone on a broom. We're going to run some plays," Wood spoke before the twins could say anything.

* * *

Day of the first game was pretty nerve racking. For Harry at least who had seemed to lose all form of appetite. Ron wasn't up in the air, nor technically on the team yet, given that if anything, he was a reserve chaser at best. While his flying was decent, he was far from the current team's skill.

So he got to sit in the nosebleed seats of the rediculously tall tower structures. But that was later. Now was the real challenge of getting the skinny seeker to eat.

"C'mon Harry. Toast and jam. Maybe marmalade? You need something or you'll feel really sick later."

"Ron's right Harry. Breakfast will keep you energized enough for the game," Hermione comforted grabbing a piece of toast and placing it on his plate. Ron grabbed a jar of marmalade he had seen Harry eat before and spread a generous amount on his toast.

"A bit much there isn't it Ron?" Neville questioned looking at the toast Ron prepared.

"What are you talking about? It's the perfect amount!"

"If you want to eat it with a spoon maybe."

"Hey! I think it's fine," Ron joked lifting his own smothered peice of toast, and taking a large bite, smearing some of the orange marmalade on his cheek and nose. Harry gave a small smile seeing Ron being so goofy.

"You've got something on your nose," Neville commented.

"I do?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Right," Neville leaned in closer from across the table, "On the tip."

"Oh, thanks," he said grabbing a napkin and wiping his face, getting his nose and cheek mostly clean. He licked the corner of his lips to get the residual smear on his cheek, "Did I get it?"

"Yes Ron, you got it," Hermione sighed, "Harry, eat your breakfast."

* * *

"That's a lot of stairs," Ron commented looking into the towers they called their stands, "I guess the ones in the castle are training for these?"

"Possibly," Neville admitted.

"Geez. I thought there were elevators in this magical society. Or maybe escalators," Ron grumbled as he began the climb up the winding stairs.

Ron didn't care how fit anyone was, these stairs were murder. His legs were screaming at him and Neville and Hermione were panting.

"We really should have paced ourselves," Hermione panted.

"Nah," Ron snarked, "No one else is here. We get to relax and pick our seats."

"Ron, what time is it?"

"Uh-"

"Hermione. We have an hour and a half until the game starts."

There was a break of silence, accented by they wind blowing over the open field.

"But look at all this! It'll be fun."

"Fun? Ron, we have nothing to do- I have nothing to study."

"Well, just enjoy it Hermione," Ron commented slipping a jar out of his pocket. Hermione and Neville sat down, but focused on Ron slipping his gloves on and readying his hands.

"Tendicula. Tendicula Parma," he whispered.

Hermione watched with a calculated gaze and Neville watched with a little interest.

"Tendicula Parma," he repeated again.

With the wind, the quiet, two of his three friends.

He sighed after so many times of only getting a glimmer of light. He placed the jar on the ground and pulled out his wand.

"Windgardium Leviosa."

Hermione jumped in and began correcting his pronunciation. It was about an hour later, when more students and teachers began to pour into the seats when something happened.

"Windgardium Leviosa," he breathed out, his flick of his wand pointing at the jar. He felt something different. A connection of sorts. On a hunch, he lifted his wand's point upward. The jar left the ground and lifted further off the ground. A grin began to bloom on his face as he raised the jar higher and higher.

"Look at that. Ron, you're doing it!"

There was a break in his concentration and he felt the connection disappear. Quickly, he reached out and grabbed the falling jar. He looked over it once more. It was faint, but he could feel it. What was that feeling?

"Good job Ron. Now we just need to work on your transfiguration."

"Uh huh."

"Oh wow, look! They're on the field! Game must be starting soon," Neville spoke excitedly. Ron peered over the little fence keeping everyone from falling over the edge. Sure enough, people were taking the field.

"This is going to be good," Neville commented with a large grin as everyone mounted their brooms. Ron watched as they two teams, donned in green and red took to the air as Madam Hooch took to the center of the field.

"Now, I don't want any cheating or funny business... From _any_ of you."

With that, Hooch tossed the ball and the games began.

Ron would've lied if he said he wasn't impressed or excited with the fast paced motion of the teams. He eyes followed as Neville narrated along with whoever was on the speaker system. Whoever he was, sounded familiar.

Still the game went quickly. And Harry was stuck doing just about nothing. Ron watched the ba- quaffle- he remembered Neville calling it being thrown around.

"Heads up!" a voice called out. Ron's head jerked to the side where he saw a ball heading right for the seats. Ron gasped when from above and behind, one of the players dressed in red zoomed forward and smacked the ball with a short cricket like bat. There was a crack and the rider turned to face the students. Ron gasped slightly to see one of his older brothers, wind blown and grinning down at them, "Everyone alright? Nasty piece of work those bludgers are, eh everyone?"

A few girls giggled. Ron gave a small smile at his big brother. Okay, so maybe that was a little cool. Kind of like his dad scooping him up and running him through a few jumps and tumbles when he was little and Aunt Tasha was chasing him. Good times. Good times.

The twin grinned back before darting off to join his duplicate in the sky. He felt a nudge to his side and looked at a grinning Neville. Ron frowned at his friend irritably.

Neville laughed and Hermione gave a sympathetic pat on the back.

"They're still stalkers."

"Who're stalkers?" A familiar voice broke in.

"Oh! Hagrid. Coming to watch the game?"

"Yeah. Was watching by me hut, but decided to come on up. Nothing like being close to the sport.," he said sitting down filling a chair.

"I know what you mean," Neville commented. The game went on with much aggression. It wasn't until the heard a cry out that their eyes were peeled away from the chaos of the game.

"Oh god," Hermione gasped.

"Harry!" Neville cried out.

"What's going on with his broom?" Hagrid questioned, "It's like he lost control."

Sure enough, Harry was being shaken violently by his broom, his hands no doubt holding on like a vice.

"It's looks like a," Hermione said softly. Then in a fit of epiphany, she grabbed Neville's binoculars and darted around, looking anywhere but Harry. It was when she stalled for a moment that Ron grew concerned. Well more concerned.

"I'll be back. Get your wands ready in case he falls," Hermione spoke quickly before running off. Ron blinked in confusion. She really needed to get her priorities straight. What could possibly be more important than the fact that their friend was possibly going to fall.

Still, this was all too similar to what his dad and Aunt Tasha would do. One would see something, give a quick warning and ditch the other, only to come back and say, you're welcome.

Ron got his wand at the ready just in case along side a rather nervous Neville.

Everything seemed to move quickly. Harry was nearly bucked off when the broom seemed to still, no longer out of control. He climbed back up and received applause from Gryfindors of many grades. Ron sighed as Neville cheered.

Harry grinned before diving downward. Ron's heart lunged as Harry seemed to be intent on plummeting anyway.

"What is he doing?" Ron yelled out, jumping out of his seat. Neville and the others jumped out of their seats and looked down seeing Harry standing on his broom near the ground, his hand out stretched.

He then seemed to flip forward and fell to the ground.

Standing up he coughed, followed by a cry over the speakers gushing how he caught the golden snitch, and that Gryfindor was the winner. With all the cheering, Hermione slipped in without being noticed although slightly out of breath.

"We won!" Neville yelled out laughing. The twins did a few loop de loops in the sky as well as flying with their hands outstretched for high fives. Neville, Hermione and even Ron put their hands out receiving high fives from the twins who laughed as they passed through.

* * *

After the game Neville, Hermione, Ron and a slightly messy and windblown Harry were talking about what happened while Harry was in the air.

"It was Snape. He had kept eye contact and was muttering some sort of spell. Those a requirements for a jinx."

"I don't know Mione," Ron intervened. He knew his friends didn't like Snape, but he had respect for the dour faced man. And while he was a bit aggressive towards students in a Gordan Ramseys sort of way. Strict, and possibly verbally assertive in an aggressive sort of way, but it was no different from his Uncle Nick really, "He doesn't really blink in class either and he does mutter to himself sometimes. Maybe he was just being himself."

"I don't know..." Harry muttered, uncertain of what had really happened while he was on the broom. They were all a little confused and worried about what had occurred.

 **On an unrelated note, I have discovered that the day I was born, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame opened up in Cleveland Ohio. Being born in Ohio and on that date, it certainly explains my love of music far beyond my parents and elder sister... I corrupted the younger so- wait no. Stop rambling.**

 **Anyway, this is closely posted after the last chapter so yeah. This was the one I was working on earlier. Joy.**

 **Well, as always, please if you would be so kind, as to review.**


	15. Hall encounter

Ron walked through days, some better than others. He was on... Tolerable terms with the twins. He had talked to Percy a bit. Studied and played with Harry, Hermione, and Neville, and had tried focusing on his school work.

But there was something in the air. An energy, a sense of celebration and foreboding. Being in November led to people talking about Christmas. Ron's mind however was on Thanksgiving.

It wasn't celebrated in Britian. There was no reason to in all of Europe. His eyes were watery when he thought about it. It was hard being away from home. Being away from his dad and being away from technology. Heck, he even missed being away from the butt ugly festive sweaters his dad would get for him to wear. When his dad was there, he'd wear one too and try to get others in the sweaters. When he was gone, he would at least bring back a picture of himself in some goofy over the top outfit.

It was times like those where Ron doubted he was a spy. His Aunt Tasha was far more intimidating, even when she was being "domestic" or "playful". He never questioned her job.

He tried to put it out of his mind. He had his lesson with Strange. He wanted to show him his little jar.

He pulled the jar out of his pocket, no longer empty though. Inside was the arrow necklace his father had given him. Something he cherished and while he didn't wear it everyday, he always had it on his person.

Somehow, he got it in his mind to put it in the jar he was trying to enchant. Maybe it was something Mione said. Maybe it was Neville or Harry. Heck, it could have even been Fred or George. Someone mentioned the necklace. And Professor Snape had angrily mentioned while scolding a student who had nearly blown up the classroom, something about protecting an object inside one of the broken jars. An easy fix for the jar, not so much for the ingredients.

But something valuable, something worth protecting.

Could it strengthen his spell. The answer was surprisngly, or unsurprisngly the more he thought about it, yes. It just hadn't been executed yet. Not perfectly. It was just stronger. He hoped going to Doctor Strange would help in finishing the spell. It was a bit of an irritation though that it was all the way in the dungeons. And he was by himself as Hermione was tutoring Harry and Neville over potions. While Ron probably could have benefited from it as well, he would rather try and figure out this jar barrier thing.

It was this blend of distracting thoughts that to him bumping into three cloak clad and green wearing individuals. Ron scuffled back a little and muttered out an apology for not watching where he was going, his eyes still on the jar.

"You better be you filthy Weasel!" a snide and cruel young voice cut through his thoughts. Ron's eyes shot upward and his own face stared back at Draco Malfoy and his goons.

"Look, I said I was sorry. You don't have to be a jerk about it," Ron spat back.

"What was that? I don't think you know your place-"

"What place? And how would you know if I don't. I barely _know_ you. We're in what? Maybe two classes together? Bu-" Ron cut himself off. How many bleach blondes with such a self righteous pompous attitude in their year who knew him could go to Hogwarts? Probably not many. "You are a real pain you know."

Ron tried to walk past them in an angered huff. But the two gorilla like boys stood in his way. Ron's hand clenched tighter around his jar.

Ron noticed Malfoy's eyes dart towards his hand. Perceptive blond.

"What's in your hand?"

Tact, he seemed to have none.

"None of your business," Ron grumbled out trying to find a way to maneuver around the trio. In retrospect, it probably was the wrong thing to say.

"I'd say it is. You _are_ in the dungeons, near the Slytherin common room with something you don't want us to see. It _could hurt us."_

Ron couldn't help but think that if circumstances had been different, Draco could become an agent. Or perhaps an ally. He seemed to be able to acknowledge where he could manipulate information to benefit himself. To create a scapegoat.

"No one would fault us in us getting it from you in order to-"

In his monologue, Ron took a chance and darted between the two goons towards the classroom. Though, they were faster than he thought as one of them grabbed his cloak.

Ron kept himself upright but pulled against whoever held his cloak s Malfoy ran in front of him, a scowl in place.

"You'll regret that," he said grabbing Ron's hand and trying to pry it open. Ron responded by biting Malfoy's hand. Malfoy yelped and hit Eon in the head. Just enough to hurt but nothing too bad. In shock most likely, whoever had Ron's cloak let go, making both fall to the floor, fighting like, well, children.

Magic, forgotten and wands not even considered as the two roller around with Malfoy trying to get whatever Ron had.

Malfoy smirked as he finally pried Ron's fingers opened. Ron's hand jerked and the jar went flying in the air, rapidly approaching the ground. His mouth fell open and he cried out, fearing the jar would shatter and that his necklace could be damaged or lost, " _Tendicula_ _Parma!"_

The jar glowed a soft blue, enveloping the entirety. Ron gasped as he felt a strain in his chest, and a slight burning at his jar, hit the ground but instead of breaking, merely bounced and was unharmed.

Ron pushed Draco off of him and bolted towards the bottle, fumbling for a moment before firmly grasping it and continuing at a running pace to theclassroom to meet with Strange.

"You can run Weasel! But my Father will hear about this!" He shakily yelled down the echoey hall. Ron didn't stop, despite his chest's protests. His chest felt sore, and his breathing labored.

He was panting by the time he entered the room, where it appeared Strange was waiting for him.

"You... How did... You know... I was," he swallowed breaking his gasping words and tried to even his breathing. Strange gave a smile and allowed Ron to gather himself before speaking.

"The enchantments on the room allow me to know I am needed. You knew that coming here Ron."

"Right. Sorry. Just a little-"

"Drained?"

"Yes."

"Hm... May I see your jar?" Strange asked. Ron didn't even question the magical man and handed him the small jar, with the necklace still inside.

Strange examined the jar closely, his small smile grew a fraction of an inch.

"I see you were successful in the spell," he commented, his eyes going back to Ron who had a hand rubbing his chest, "And now, could you tell me how you went through casting the spell?"

Ron explained his run in with Malfoy, obviously embarrassed and a bit nervous with what had apparently recently occurred.

"Ah, I see."

"See what?"

"Ron, remember how I said that Wizarding magic channels differently than sorcery?"

"Kind of..."

"Well, sorcery channeling is a bit more potent that what you learn in class, given you don't traditionally use a medium to mold it for you while casting. Since you weren't using your gloves, your hands had no way to protect themselves from the release of energy. As for your chest, it is your magic traveling further than it is used to on its own. That caused a strain on your core. Though I do commend you on your spell. It should be easier now that you have completed it at least once."

Ron perked up slightly from hearing that.

"That doesn't mean you have it down pat. Put your gloves on, and give it a go," Strange said handing him another jar, this one, larger than his hand. Ron took the jar and attempted the spell. He barely got it out when he grasped his chest once more in pain. Strange put a hand on his back in a comforting gesture. Ron could hear him murmur something but couldn't make out the words as his body began to relax.

"I believe you have more than just strained yourself. Your magic seems as though... It were rubbed raw. Rest tonight, you should feel better in the morning."

Ron stood up, and as he was about to walk out, he saw a red light envelope his robes. He looked back at Strange curiously.

"A variation you'll learn later. It is just to give you some protection as you head back to your dormitory," he commented with a knowing glint in his eyes. Ron gave him a smile and headed back, moving as quietly as he knew how, and listening for any signs of people to avoid on his way back.

He ran into no one. His trip was uneventful as he entered the Gryffindor Common room, his friends waiting in the common area cursing over their homework. Ron joined them as they attempted to come up with the different poisons a beozar was effective against.

 **Meh. Just meh. Nothing life altering or fantastical about this chapter...**

 **However, if you would all be so kind as to review, I'd like to know what's on your mind.**

 **Maybe it's a book you've read, something you've seen on tv, maybe it's what you had for dinner.**

 **Well TTFN everyone!**


	16. Sleepless

Ron went to bed with soreness and glee. Wrapped in his blankets, he drifted off with a small smile at his magic working.

He froze within his mind well within the enveloped layout with dark familiarity. He could hear crackling fire, he could feel it's heat. There was a darkness melting with the crackling heat revealing a scene that took Ron's breath away. There was rubble and debris strewn all around him. Broken glass, bent wood and small fires from damaged cars. The sky was a swirling darkness, tainted with a vicious green, barely noticeable, but a striking contrast to the flames of orange and red.

He took a deep breath, and moved slowly forward into the unknown, his feet going down the middle of the road, glass breaking with each shift in weight. His head whipped around to look at the destruction and the lack of life. Ron couldn't help but feel as though he knew this place.

It felt as though he had walked forever and yet no time had passed when he realized where he was. He gasped and ran towards the one place he knew and pounded on the door.

"Doctor Strange! Doctor Strange!" he cried out as he continued pounding on the door of the Sanctum Sanctorium. "Please open up! I-It's me! Ron! There's something going on-"

The door creaked open slowly to Ron's relief. He quickly stepped inside to see, no one there. His breathing grew shallow as he searched the apparent barren building filled with dust and broken furniture and glass. There was a bare coldness to the sanctuary. He walked around, searching for someone, _anyone,_ who could explain to him what was going on. He stopped in what appeared to be a rustic den, the table missing a leg, and the chair overturned along with yellow papers thrown in all directions.

"Doctor Strange?" Ron whispered, his voice carrying through the building. He heard a deep and rich chuckle that sent shivers down his spine from behind him. He turned his head slightly to see who was there.

Dark hair. Green eyes.

Ron's whole body turned to face the man, too scared to turn his back to him. The man gave a dark smirk but said nothing. His body seemed to have an aura of toxic power.

Ron had seen a glimpse of him before he was escorted off to Asgard, and there was footage of him bombarding the news for weeks after the attack.

"Loki," Ron squeaked. If anything, Loki's smirk grew darker as he took casual steps forward. Ron felt his heart pound in fear as he grew closer. When he was about three feet away, Ron bolted darting right past Loki. Loki didn't try to stop him as Ron exited the sanctuary. The sharp breaking of glass assaulted his ears with every step he took. He made it a few blocks when he was stopped dead in his tracks by an arrow flying in front of his body, cutting his shirt.

Ron's head whipped to face the direction the arrow came from. His face paled seeing his father standing stiffly, one arm holding his favored how, the other drawing an arrow.

"Dad?" Ron whimpered. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, "Dad please," Ron cried, "Please don't-"

"Don't bother. He's my soldier," the cutting voice of Loki interrupted. Ron turned to see the mad Asgardian. The man's eyes seemed to be glowing in his own madness, "So if I tell him to kill you..."

"No..."

"No? Kill the boy puppet," Loki commented with little care. There was a slight hesitation in his father's movements, but he still drew back the arrow, and let it fly.

Ron ducked down, falling to the ground before tearing off again. He didn't hear his father move, but Loki appeared as a vapor before him and grabbed his shoulders.

"You can't win boy. You can't even run."

Tears streamed down Ron's face as he stared into the poison green eyes with a black haired frame. He felt himself being shaken by the god making him feel slightly ill, he closed his eyes to try and not get sick.

"Ron. Ron!"

Ron's eyes flew open to see green eyes and black hair. He lashed out pushing the person away as he took in deep breaths. He blinked a few times as the person groaned and pulled themselves from the floor.

"Ron," a far more familar and comforting voice spoke up, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Harry... I just had... A bad dream," Ron commenting, rubBing his arms. Harry agave a slightly saddened look.

"Do you... Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I um... I... Do you... What do you know about the attack on Manhattan?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

"My Aunt didn't want Dudley to get scared," Harry muttered. Ron assumed Dudley was his much younger cousin. Ron slowly explained what occurred, what his dad told him, what was on the news, and even where he was hiding out in America during the attack. He was careful not to mention his spilching and the pain that came with it.

He felt arms wrap around him awkwardly as he finished, with tears misting his eyes. Ron looked over to see Harry holding him an awkward but surpringly comfortable hug. Ron leaned into it even as Harry stiffened. What could Ron say? He was a hugger.

They sat for a few moments before Ron slipped out and patted Harry on the back.

"Thanks Harry."

"No problem. Are you..."

"I'm feeling better, thanks. We should... We should probably go back to bed."

Harry nodded and walked back over to his bed in quiet acceptance. There was something odd about it. Ron shrugged it off though, even after months at Hogwarts, what did he know about being a normal eleven year old?

Still if television taught him anything, Harry wasn't exactly acting like a normal eleven year old. But he also recalled his Auntuncle Fitzsimmons words, never trust televised representation. So Ron was just left with an odd feeling in his gut.

* * *

Clint gasped as he woke up in the sanctuary of the Stark Tower. His breathing went from labored to calm in what some might say a record pace.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes in tired irritation. While it wasn't uncommon for him to have difficulties sleeping, some nights were just too painful.

He could handle mission nightmares. He was working through the whole nightmare of the Weasley debacle... But this was a nightmare far worse. It was the Loki invasion... And the madman had left him able to see what he was doing... And made him kill Ron.

His stomach churned as his mind brought forth images of Ron's heart broken face when the arrow was fired, piercing his heart. Tears streaming down his face as he fell to his knees, then in his side, desperately trying to keep breathing and not die, only to lose his pulse and fade away.

Ron's eyes were hallow and haunted, similarly to the day they announced they were going to trial to decide his living conditions.

Clint sighed and got out of bed, knowing he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. He wandered through the halls of the tower, making his way to the kitchen to make some coffee, only to see Natasha waiting for him.

"Rough night?"

"Yep."

"Wanna talk?"

"Nope."

It was the simple things that were said that brought back a slight sense of calm and order to them.

"Meet me in the ring. Half hour."

"Sure," Clint said making his coffee. He didn't mind going a few rounds with Natasha. Despite what many people thought, he could in fact, hold his own against her. Otherwise she would have _never_ considered becoming a SHIELD agent.

 **Um... Ah... Uh... Yeah I got nothing. But hey, nightmares happen. They can't hide forever.**

 **So anyway... Please let me know what you guys think... And just for fun, any book or television recommendations? Lord knows in a small town you can never find enough.**


	17. Am I thankful?

Ron thought he had finally gotten used to Hogwarts. The winding, moving staircases. The seemingly endless halls and the moving portraits sometimes visiting one another throwing him off... He was comfortably set in a routine before the holiday season. He had heard older students talk about going home during the break and couldn't help but grin at the prospect of seeing his dad again. Neville seemed pretty excited too.

Harry and Hermione however, were both far more subdued. He knew Hermione would be spending the first Christmas without her mom and dad, something that Ron doubted would be easy. There would probably be crying and he didn't know if she would even want to go back to America for Christmas or not. On the one hand, he didn't want to leave her behind. They did kind of live together.

Eh, he'd mail his dad for advice later. For now, he would go about the day trying to forget it was Thanksgiving and act as though it was a normal day in a rather abnormal school.

He made his way down to the great hall to see the head of the Gryffindor House post the paper he had been looking forward to seeing since he had heard about it. The paper to go home for the holidays. He couldn't hide his grin as he practically skipped up to Professor McGonnagall.

"Is that the sign up for going home for the holidays?"

McGonnagall jumped, slightly shocked at the early bird student and looked down at Ron.

"Mr. Weasley-Barton," she quickly added the second last name, "There is no paper for, going home. Just one for those who wish to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'm here early for nothing."

There was a flicker in Professor McGonnagal's eyes. While she didn't per say, agree with the choice in his custody, she was still worried over her lions. Even if it was a reluctant family avoiding lion. While it would please the maternal side of her to see him go home and get along with his family, she wasn't sure he had actually thought about what _going home_ would actually entail. She knew that if she wanted to ensure he made his own choice, someone would have to tell him.

"Mr. Weasley-Barton, you plan on leaving Hogwarts for the holidays?"

"Yep. I can't wait to see my dad," he spoke happily, forgoing his manners and addressing her as Professor, "I'm going to send them a letter on when to meet-"

"Mr. Weasley-Barton, I assure you, if you leave Hogwarts for the holidays, your family will know where and when to retrieve you."

"Do you send letters home?"

"On certain occasions. But your family has done this for many years," she commented, letting him figure the situation out himself. It didn't take long for his face to contort from joy, to confusion to a pale shock. His mouth clipped shut.

"Mr. Weasley-Barton?"

"I-I understand Professor. If you could just give a me a moment- Have a nice day," he said turning and briskly walking into the great hall with his body slightly more curled in on itself. He walked over to his usual seat and practically collapsed in his spot. Not one person noticed, as few were there and those that were were either eating quickly or cramming the last minute homework.

Normally he would grab some food and start eating before his friends arrived, so as not to alarm them with his consumption of food but, he didn't really feel like he could eat. It was if an icy pit formed in his stomach and was expanding making it impossible to attempt to eat. So he didn't.

He just waited for his trio of friends, all of which were there only a few minutes later, Hermione leading them and talking animatedly to the two. Neville had a soft grin and Harry had a slightly more cocked and crooked grin that showed levels of sincerity. Ron gave a hollow smile back. They didn't notice anything off, so they sat and chatted about what the holiday plans were.

"I know I'm spending Christmas with my mum and gran. So no holiday Hogwarts for me," Neville commented. Ron held back any words. He really wished they weren't talking about the one thing that surely everyone else was talking about.

"I'm staying here- There's so much to study," Hermione said quickly. Ron gave a sympathetic look. He couldn't imagine exactly what it was like for her. Her parents were gone, buried away and all she had now were the Avengers, namely Bruce.

"I'm staying too."

Harry's declaration surprised Ron. Why would he want to stay at Hogwarts when he could go home to an Aunt and Uncle? Family who helped cover him at the train and pay for his schooling. It was no secret that Harry did have nice new copies and new items rather than hand me downs Ron had seen many others use. Why wouldn't he want to go home for the holidays?

"Really Harry?" Hermione asked, "Why's that?"

"It's a magical castle. It's sounds loads more fun than going home," he responded earnestly. Ron could only nod. Harry, was an odd guy.

* * *

Ron went through the day feeling muddled and a bit grouchy. He knew this was probably because he didn't eat breakfast but he couldn't help it. Despite being aware of the doctors talking about his blood sugar levels, he had never really felt it was all that bad. He never really had any adverse side effects other than being cranky. That being said, there was usually always food available when he was with his dad, and his family always made sure he ate. Even... the Weasleys, had made sure that he ate regularly. He wasn't even thinking that this was really the first time in a long time he had skipped a meal.

Or two when lunch rolled around. Granted, Hermione did get him to eat some buttered bread, and Neville and Harry offered to take him to the infirmary. He declined, sayuing he just was overthinking something. Harry and Neville seemed to respect it as some sort of guy thing and kept Hermione off his back after he ate the bread she put in front of him.

Despite the shortening days and longer nights, Ron felt as though the day couldn't creep by any slower. With the revelation he wouldn't be seeing his dad for Christmas, and wallowing in silence from class to class, as well as ignoring that he hadn't really eaten, he couldn't prevent his mind from wandering to what would have been Thanksgiving that very day. He had slipped away from his three friends saying he had to use the bathroom, and unlike the things he heard about girls going in groups, guys just didn't do that sort of thing.

They all agreed to meet in the Great Hall for dinner within the hour.

Ron spent his time in the bathroom in the last stall, letting tears fall as quietly as he could. Quiet sobs escaped as he camped out in the last stall. The pit in his stomach twisted and he cried a bit harder.

He wasn't going home. He wasn't going home. He wasn't going home.

It kept repeating in a horrid jeering. It was bad enough as it was. But he couldn't spend the holidays with his dad?

He knew if he went with the Weasley's there was no way that they would allow his dad to be there. Even if he somehow found their place, he'd be freezing in a tent while Ron was certain he would be couped up inside.

That thought only made Ron feel worse as he drew his legs towards his chest on top the toilet.

He froze when he heard footsteps. His breath was caught in his throat, perhaps it was surprise, or the fear of being heard or seen crying in the bathroom.

"C'mon Fred, it's not that bad."

"You said that before Lee started laughing," a voice grumbled. Ron tensed. The twins.

"Well... it's not like it wasn't surprisng-"

"My hair is _green_. I can't go to dinner with green hair! I'll look like a Slytherin!"

"It's hardly-"

"It looks like troll snot!"

"Do you even know what that looks like?"

"No. But I can imagine."

Ron listened quietly. He was, actually surprised to hear the two twins argue. There were some people that just _never_ seemed to argue or disagree or even be upset at one another. He was actually curious as to what they would say next but the words seemed to blur. Actually, the whole stall seemed to as well. His head felt light, and everything seemed to be moving.

He didn't know that his eyes rolled back and he fell off the toilet with a loud thud, making the twins pause.

"Did you-?"

"I heard."

"I think it was the last stall."

The twins made their way over, temporarily ignoring Fred's bright green predicament, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there?"

There was a moan from in the stall.

"I'm going to guess no."

"We're going to break in!"

"On three?"

"Why wait?"

George pulled out his wand and said Alhomora.

Fred attempted to open the door, miffed that it was still locked.

"That should have worked!"

"Wrong lock maybe? I mean, there is no keyhole..."

"Whatever. Look's like we're doing this the old fashioned way."

Fred dropped to his stomach to see a body lying on the ground taking up pretty much the entirety of the floor, with his head back towards the wall and out of view, making it impossible for him to scramble underneath. Still, he and his brother were creative. There were other ways to get someone out of a stall.

Case and point, Fred grabbed a handful of what he assumed was the guy's pants' leg and began dragging him across the floor and out of the stall. George assisted once one leg was brought through with the other not far behind.

"I think he's unconcious."

"I'm telling you, the tests are getting harder and making everyone sick. They should totally give us some time off from homework and stuff. Clearly, the chap's overstre- Ron!"

The twins froze for a moment seeing their little brother's unconcious face attached to the body of the boy in the stall. Well, it was him obviously... but both were worried about what happened.

Both twins grabbed an arm and put them over each of their shoulders. His head rolled forward and his feet were barely touching the ground. The two looked at one another. There was no way that this was going to work going over the moving staircases with dinner starting soon.

"You take him," Fred commented, "I'll go tell Madam Pomphery."

George nodded and allowed Fred to readjust Ron onto his back. Being a beater appeared to have the minor perk of being able to carry his unconcious baby brother in cases of emergency. Who knew?

The two left the bathroom with Fred darting ahead bumping into Lee Jordan and George going as fast as he could with a lanky little brother on his back.

* * *

"Where is Ron?"

"I don't know."

"Think he's still hiding out somewhere?"

"Maybe. Oh but he needs to get here!" Hermione grumbled a bit. It had taken some time to figure out what could possibly be making Ron moody pretty much all day. She had been through books and had even had Neville and Harry assist.

They were surprisingly more than willing to help, unlike others kids at her previous school.

As a group, they had found out about an American "holiday" called Thanksgiving.

Aparrently, it was a bit of a big deal. At least for Ron.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon. He _always_ shows up."

"I don't know, he didn't look too good," Harry commented.

Lee ran passed the three, getting their attention and Percy's with his gasping breath.

"Perc- huh- Percy!" Lee gasped, "Ron... Collapsed... Infirmary."

"What?!"

The trio of first years all whipped their heads around to see a pale faced prefect and a fast talking, panting boy.

"Fred told me- They found- Ron in bathroom," he took a deep breath to stop gasping.

"What happened?" Percy asked with a clipped tone.

"Fred and George found Ron on the bathroom floor. They told me to tell you that they're taking him to Madam Pomfrey."

* * *

"Why are their eight turkeys in here?" Clint asked walking into the communal kitchen in the tower, feeling the aches and pains from his latest bout with Natasha. Natasha pursed her lips at the billionare and Bruce who had the decency to look sheepish.

"Thanksgiving? I get lots of turkey and with Pointbreak coming and Capsicle being the traditional old man he is, well... I can afford a feast."

Clint was abnormally silent. Without so much as a snarky comment he walked out of the room confusion to everyone but Natasha.

"What the hell?"

"Ron's not here," was all Natasha said before getting a glass of water and leaving as well, to stop Clint from brooding on a holiday.

 **Why? Why did I do this? Okay so, a little background as to why this.**

 **I actually had a chapter started before I realized it would ruin so much of what I had planned. Now, this chapter is not a happy one. But for some reason, I feel it fits.**

 **I'll be working on the next chapter shortly. But my brain is jelly at the moment so...**

 **Anyone have a good idea on unconventional relaxing methods?**


	18. Take a deep breath

There was warmth. Something firm, slightly stiff and a bit itchy. Nimble fingers curled around cool fabric, followed by relaxing. A sigh escaped tired lips.

Ron didn't know where he was, he just felt a level of content with slight noise drifting in his ears. He hummed his content, some how seeming to silence the room.

Then, someone spoke. A question? Yes, they were repeating a question. And what were they asking? It was short. The question- no... A name. His name. Why were they asking his name? Who was asking his name?

And why was it so dark? Oh wait, his eyes were closed.

His eyes were clenched and his eyes slowly opened to blurry, fuzzy shapes that quickly sharpened to see Hermione, Neville and Harry to the left of his bed and Fred, George and Percy on the right. Ron's brows furrowed.

"Guys?" Ron croaked out. His throat felt dry and sandy.

"Madam Pomfrey. Ron's awake," Percy commented, turning his head. Ron heard footfalls click on the stone floor towards him.

"Oh give him space! Back up all of you!" A voice he didn't recognize demanded. It was clipped, precise, and feminine. It had authority too. It kind of made him think of his Uncle Nick.

Especially when everyone stepped back as quickly as they were reluctant. Ron furrowed his brows seeing a worried Professor McGonnagall, a dour faced Professor Snape (Ron couldn't even begin to wonder why the man was there) and a stern faced, slightly irritated, midcentury dressed woman who kind of made Ron think of those nurses he would see in old television shows.

"Go on all of you. No need to smother him." Yep. Definitely like his Uncle Nick, "Out!"

"But he's our brother!"

"He's our friend!" Harry spoke loudly in unison with... Was it Fred who said it? Ron was about certain he was Fred. Maybe...

"And _I_ need to assist him."

"They- they can stay," Ron felt the words stumble out of his mouth.

"Miste-"

"I want them to stay," Ron spoke again. He didn't know why he was saying what he was, but it felt genuine. Even, his... Brothers. Maybe he was just tired. He didn't want to fight, didn't want to hear a fight either.

The woman sighed.

"Very well then. Mr. Weasley, when was the last time you ate?"

The change in subject was so abrupt, it took a moment for Ron to register exactly what she said.

"Um. Lunch?"

What was she getting at?

"Didn't you only have some bread? And didn you eat breakfast?" Hermione pointed out and questioned. Ron gave her a look but nodded. The woman clucked her tongue.

"Looks like a small dosage," she muttered.

"What?" Ron asked. He didn't receive an immediate answer as the woman took a vial from Professor Snape. Oh, probably a potion. So that's why he was here. Why didn't she have more in the, what appeared to be, an infirmary?

"Please fill the shelves Severus, while I help him."

Oh, so she probably ran out. Wait? What was she trying to give him.

"What is that?" Neville asked.

"Nutrient potion. I have enough students who try to _forgo_ eating because of their own running around. This potion has a high concentration of nutrients to keep you well. This is _not_ a substitute for eating. Since you are all here, make sure he does not miss a meal. I don't want to see him back here. Or any of you."

As harsh as her words were, it did make sense. No need to see people in pain. No one wanted that.

"Now," she said handing him the bottle, "drink up."

Ron put the bottle to his nose and took a light whiff, something he had heard Professor Snape talk about in talking about in class. A way to identify potions and that they were done well. Ron had no idea what he would have been smelling for, but all he could make out was something earthy. Given his amount of time in the sky, he could only guess that this potion smelt like mud. He hoped it didn't taste like it smelled.

Sadly, it tasted worse.

He had no ill will that his friends and brothers were trying to smother their chuckling at his most likely comical expressions. Even as he vowed that he would never drink one of the heinous tasting potions again.

"I can't imagine why he would stop eating. You said he's always had quite the appetite," the nurse muttered quietly to McGonnagall.

"I delivered some news to him over the holiday accommodations. He seemed not to fully be aware of the full disclosure of the custody. The other children have been talking nonstop about going home. It seemed prevalent to alert him."

"That appears to have gone over well," Snape dryly added.

"Professor, if I may?" the three professors turned to face Percy Weasley who had walked over quietly as Harry, Hermione and Neville made jokes to lift Ron's spirits and Fred and George played up over fretting over his well being. How much was acting, they would never know.

"Yes Percy?"

"I made sure to sign all of us up for the holiday stay. Mum and dad have been planning a trip to Romania for the holidays since this past June."

The words were short, and to the point. But hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

"I believe Fred and George are explaining that now..."

The three teachers followed Percy's gaze to the bed where the twins were smiling, making hand gestures of grand proportions and Ron's serious face. A sigh escaping the younger as well as him rubbing his eyes just about confirmed it.

"However, I do have a question. My brother has eaten at every meal barring today. Why would he collapse after such a short time?"

"Hypoglycemia."

The room grew quiet and Ron looked slightly sheepish.

"I have hypoglycemia. It means I have low blood sugar and if I don't eat... Well I normally get moody. I guess... It made me- y'know..."

"Faint."

"In the loo."

* * *

"Well, we understand Charlie."

"Enjoy some time at home."

"I'm sure your family would love to see you."

"Even-"

"Even the little lost boy."

There was a quiet goodbye party for Charlie as he would leave for the holidays, unlike just about everyone else. Many had had falling outs with their families be it because they were muggle born, or their parents didn't approve of what they wanted to do with their lives. So they stayed most if not all years, basking in each other's companies and watching the dragons.

"Just tell me your mum knows."

"Yeah. She knows. And so does dad and Ginny."

"Well, say hello to them for us."

"Will do."

* * *

"My answer is no. I will be going back to Britain for the holidays. My answer is final."

Sometimes, Bill hated working in Egypt with Goblins.

* * *

"I think we will need some more birds," Clint commented looking at the stack of already accumulated gifts for Ron and Hermione and their friends Neville and Harry. What could Clint say? He liked to give gifts to his favorite people and now that Ron had friends his own age, they weren't going to be left out. And Tony just had to try and show him up. God only knew what he had put in all the colorfully wrapped boxes. At least Natasha told him her plan for both Ron and Hermione.

Still... They would need more birds. A lot more birds.

"You know, this is bizarre," Tony commented to Natasha.

"It's no longer Thanksgiving."

"You act as if that is the answer to this."

"It is. It was the first Holiday he ever spent with Ron."

"Ah... Oh. And Christmas?"

"He's taking advantage of your wallet."

"Duly noted.

* * *

 _Dear Father and Mother,_

 _As per usual, my monthly letter regarding my education and wellbeing here at Hogwarts is remaining well. But, father, I have noticed something... Of an odd occurance. I ran into a Wea-_

The previous word was scribbled out.

 _-the youngest filthy blood traitor Weasley and he used some sort of magic. I could feel it being used. I don't know what it was, but he did something to me. My body froze for a moment and I felt off balance. Professor Snape said that I was just feeling vertigo. Father, Mother, do you know what happened? I heard him say something about a pendulum._

 _Otherwise, not much of anything has happened here. It's quite amusing to see Potter being left at the castle with the Weasel brood._

 _With regards,_

 _Draco Lucius Malfoy._

* * *

 **I... Am a horrible person.**

 **But, quick message... To anyone using this story to pass on they would like to see something else updated, please just PM me.**

 **I am working on anything and everything as my muse hits me. And this muses are like cats. They only come to me at the worst times.**

 **Now as for this story, things are really going to get weird. People coming home for the holidays, people staying away, conflicting emotions, almost bipolar moments and a mysterious letter... Sounds boring right?**

 **Anywho, the question of the day. If you could bitchslap any character, fanfic or otherwise, who would it be?**

 **Make a mention in the review!**


	19. Navidad in the castle

**It is chapters like these that remind me why I don't write longer chapters...**

 **Anyway guys, happy holidays to all, and to all a good life.**

It was quiet evening just before the day all the children would go home for the holidays. Well, almost all of them.

As Prefect of the Gryffindor tower and the eldest Weasley currently attending Hogwarts, he was asked many months in advance, to stay at Hogwarts with Fred and George for the holidays. It was now Ron included. A bit of a problem as well as a blessing. He did care for his family. He really did, they were as close as comfortably possible. But Ron was essentially an enigma.

In silence, he could appear to have always been there with the group with his own brand of irritation. But hearing him speak, so clearly different from their family. And in there lied the problem. Percy had no idea what he liked. He knew he had given him Scabbers when they had first been identified as their brother. And Ron did take good care of the lazy rat. He seemed to enjoy learning spells and could be seen wearing, an odd pair of rather sophisticated gloves on occasion, but more commonly a chain with a small arrow on it. He had taken a reluctant interest in Quiditch when Professor McGonnagal had shoe horned him into practicing with the team after some crazy stunt.

If there was anything he could tell without a doubt from his brother, it was his interest in planning. Or well, strategies, as it were. Be it moves in Quiditch as plays, or the occasional interest in things as mundane and over taught within Hogwarts as the goblin wars.

Which brought Percy back to a small box. Inside was his gift to his "newest" younger brother. While he was never one to worry too much about being the best gift giver, as that was a title fought often between his elder brothers, he was slightly nervous about what he would think of the humble gift. He seemed curious and strategic. So his family's ancestral chess set, passed down for generations, was placed in his box for safe keeping until he could wrap it. He had gotten it when Bill and Charlie had expressed a lack of interest.

But Percy never cared much for the game. Only the culture and the rich history. Ron on the other hand, could very well enjoy it, if only for his undeniable fascination with seeing magic in action, only slightly dulled seeing it on a daily basis.

At least, that was what he hoped. It was still a week away for him to really worry. So, ever so slowly, he made his way into bed and curled up into a deep sleep.

* * *

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all woke early despite the lack of classes and being the first day of break. It went without say that they would all be with him for the send off. It wasn't hard to follow the herds of students going home. They didn't even go too far from the schools, only to be carted away on carriages. Old time carriages Ron noticed as they watched one leave. His eyes were droopy and he was hardly paying attention.

It wasn't until it was Neville's turn, did Ron get a good look at the carriages. Old, dark regal... But what in the world was pulling them? It was some sort of leathery horse. Skeletal, a little twitchy.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione asked

"You've been staring off into space," Harry added. Ron blinked, perhaps trying to make the leathery beasts disappear. But no, they still remained. He looked over at Harry and Hermione, both terrible actors and showing great deals of confusion and concern. They weren't lying. At least, that was what Ron hoped.

"Erm... nothing. Just, thinking I guess," he replied. If they saw nothing, why could he _see_ something? He'd have to ask Doctor Strange later. He watched as the carriage left, and waved with Harry and Hermione as Neville left. A small smile appeared on his face knowing he'd see him again after the break. Ron, Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle before they could really feel the chill of winter set in. It already began to look the part with snow drifting in the air dusting the ground with promises of cold air and plenty of indoor time. Plenty good with Christmas just around the corner.

Although, with a bare castle, sans the three, Ron's brothers and a few other students Ron didn't know, he was sure this holiday would surely creep by at a snail's pace. Oh well, at least he had more time to work with Doctor Strange. He had been getting better with his shielding spell and was immensely proud. Perhaps he could learn how to do it on his dormitory to keep the twins out. Alas, he knew he could just now consistently use it on jars. It would take far more energy to shield a room. And then his roommates...

Ah well. He had a whole castle to hide in. Surely he wouldn't see that much of them right?

* * *

"Ginny, are you all set?"

"Yes mum. I've got my bag ready."

"Wonderful. Arthur?"

"Coming dear. Just getting the last of the gifts in the car."

"Oh Arthur..."

"I know. But Charlie does understand why we aren't coming to Romania this year."

"Yes Arthur... I know."

Molly held a slightly troubled look on her face, so foreign to the powerful matriarch Ginny was used to. She had never seen her mother so nervous. Going to Hogwarts for Christmas was something that just wasn't done. And the plans had been laid only for her long lost brother to be found.

A brother she hadn't seen since the beginning of school. A brother who had yet to send them a letter. Granted, she didn't know how she would react either. She was just thankful that Fred and George had written more letters this year, even including different things about the brother she was closest in age with. Apparently, he had taken to flying rather well, hence her own gift to him, Quiditch through the ages. Hopefully he'd take it well.

* * *

"What are they doing?" Harry questioned looking over at the Weasley twins. It had been only a few hours since Neville had left and the wicked nasty British weather did not disappoint with falling fat flakes thickening the already existing amount of snow on the ground, already hitting their ankles in height.

"It looks like..."

"Enchanting snowballs?" Ron finished for Hermione. Sure enough, they had their wands out and a pile of snowballs they seemed to be enchanting to take to the air. And quick as they were in the air, there was a quick soar in the air and a wet thwack! Right on the back of Professor Quirrel's head.

The man just kept moving, doing his best to ignore the onslaught of snowballs. This gave Ron an idea.

He gave Hermione and Harry a grin.

"Ron, don't you-"

Hermione was ignored as Ron grabbed a handful of snow and chucked it at the back of one of the twins' head. There was a cry out from the assaulted twin. Both turned to face an impish grinning Ron, a disapproving Hermione and a mildly amused Harry. The wind creating a greater chill.

"Gred, you know what this means?"

"I believe I do Forge."

"Dear brother, you brought this on yourself."

With speed from many years of pranks, the twins picked up snowballs and threw them at Ron, missed, and hit Harry and Hermione instead. There was a moment of silence before all war broke out. Fred and George had teamed up against the three first years. The onslaught was wild as Fred and George dramatically performed as victims when they were hit. Even Ron got in on it when he was hit in the center of the chest, calling desperately to Harry and Hermione. Fifteen minutes and hundreds of snowballs distracted the group as two red heads walked on grounds they had once studied on, made friends within, and grew up.

"Bill."

"Charlie."

"I see you've made it in one piece," Charlie commented looking over his decently dressed elder brother. Bill snorted.

"Oh, _you're_ one to talk Charlie. In your third year, didn't you lose your-"

"That was your fault and you know it Bill."

" _Sure_ it was."

Charlie punched Bill in the shoulder. Bill glared as Charlie began his treck inside the castle to meet up with Percy. Bill hissed and rubbed the punched part of his arm when he assumed Charlie was out of earshot, only to hear Charlie chuckle at his elder brother's misfortune.

In a childish manner, Bill chased after Charlie, akin to when they were small children shortly after Percy had been born. Their bags for then, forgotten, only to be gathered by quick small creatures living within the castle walls. Both were well versed in moving quickly and keeping their energy with their respective occupations in mind. It took a few minutes before they had made it into the courtyard of the castle when suddenly a snowball hit Charlie in the face.

"Oh!"

"Charlie?"

Charlie blinked and looked at the courtyard to see his brothers in what appeared to be a battle royale, the twins against Ron and two other individuals. The girl was Hannah or something. He really couldn't remember. Not that it mattered at the moment. Given the look of apologetic terror on the twins' faces, Charlie was certain that they were the ones who threw the offending snowball. With his own speed, he grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed it at the twins.

"Hey! No fair Charlie!"

"It's just the two of us-"

"-against the four of you?"

"I demand a recount!"

"Um... I'm not sure it works that way-" Hermione was cut off when snow hit Charlie once more, this time from behind.

"Bill!"

There was only chaos from there as snow flew in all directions in a mad flurry, dragging in a disgruntled Percy after he searched for the eldest two Weasley boys, to throw for the twins and Bill while Charlie assisted the three first years.

This was the scene that Molly, Arthur and Ginny walked in on. Arthur had a goofy grin watching as the Hogwarts children and the elder boys go wild with their wintery fun, recalling his days as a student. Ginny wasted no time sneaking over towards Fred and George, eager to join them on the snowy fun. Molly on the other hand rolled her eyes, trying to hide her own smile, seeing her children having fun together as if they had done it their entire lives, while also grabbing a few blankets she had brought with her in the car. And Arthur had thought she was crazy in bringing the hand stitched cozy wonders.

"Arthur," she quietly called out to her husband, as to not distract the children from their little game, "Help me with the blankets."

Arthur chuckled at his wife, but assisted her in getting the blankets from the car, knowing they would all be cold after they were done playing in the snow. As it was, Fred and George's lips were already looking a bit blue. He didn't think Molly noticed yet, otherwise she would have put a stop to their game and ushered them inside by now.

"Let's get them in Arthur. Their lips are turning blue!"

Ah, thought too soon.

* * *

"Sign here. And here. Intial here," a man spoke with boredom and annoyance. Tony Stark just grinned at the poor man sent with to pick up the large amounts of packages to ship to Hogwarts. Apparently, it was "too much" for the usual pick up using the birds. The man just cursed inwardly. He wondered how the hell this man, Iron Man or not, was able to track down the magical postal service. He averted his gaze to one of the two men who actually had magical wards and sent the archer a glare. He had only made it worse with more packages. At least the mousy man had only given a box and said that everything was in that.

"Is this it?" Tony asked referring to the paperwork. The man sighed and pulled out a wand.

"Yes. That is it. Unless you have any _more_ packages I should be aware of?"

"I think that's all," Tony commented not seeming to care, "Jarvis, am I forgetting anything?"

"No sir. All packages have been accounted for."

"Thanks J."

"Thank god," the man muttered looking over the paperwork. He placed his papers back in his pack. He sighed and lifted his hands, "Omnes resurgemus... Wingardium Leviosa."

The boxes all were lifted into the air, a slight nervousness appeared as he held one hand steady and pulled a small toy cart out of his bag. He tossed it under the boxes and, with his other hand, gestured, saying, "Excresco."

The small toy cart grew into a large one, and the man placed the gifts down onto the thing looking somewhat winded.

"Impressive," Tony said in a slightly impressed tone. The man just glared at him once more. He was slightly glad, but more so irritated that Tony had paid _ahead_ of time. Cocky bastard. At least he could leave. And when these packages made it to the overseas department, they were no longer his problem.

"So I can count on you for more of my magical mail needs?" Tony asked with a smirk on his face.

"I go where my job requires."

"Sure, sure. Say, what's your name?" Tony asked as the man stepped onto the elevator. The man turned to face him with all the packages on the cart ready to go down with him. He then proceeded to flip Tony the bird as the doors closed.

"Nice guy," Clint chuckled. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"He didn't tell me his name. And he had an attitude. I'm going to find out his name."

"Tony no."

"Tony yes," Tony responded to Bruce's quiet reprimand attempt.

* * *

"Oh," Ron groaned sitting near the fire in the Gryffindor common room, sipping hot chocolate with his friends and... biological family. It had been a nasty shock that sent chills down his spine. He had no idea Molly and Arthur had arrived until he was being wrapped in a blanket with Charlie. It had been quick work and truthfully, he had been cold. And he wasn't the only one being wrapped up. Hermione and Harry were also wrapped up together, the twins were cracking jokes and "fighting" over the blanket, while Bill had Percy and apparently Ginny in his large blanket.

And now, they were all warming up, Molly had fretted and gotten everyone hot chocolate from who knows where. It was richer and slightly more bitter than he was used to his dad making. Granted, his dad was often times tired from missions and would use a tea kettle to heat water and just use instant packets. It was the marshmallows that really made it worth it.

"That was fun," Harry commented, his eyes seeming to glow in the fire light. Perhaps it was his happiness though. It was a pretty awesome snowball fight. One that he hadn't had since he was a little kid, back before they had taken him into homeschooling for his own protection. And from Hermione's face, he guessed she hadn't had one like that in a long while either. She had a grin on her face that she was trying to control as Molly fretted over everyone, trying to keep them all warm. It was all so surreal. Apparently, Molly was motherly to all individuals. Ron was actually glad that she was fretting over everyone else. It gave him some time to breath before she inevitably focused her attention on him.

Ginny had gotten the attention of both Bill and Charlie as she asked them questions about what they were doing since the last time she had seen them. And Arthur had taken a quiet seat in a chair near him. He seemed a bit... uncomfortable. Sure he was amused by the other red heads telling stories, fretting over one another, and the nostalgia of, from what Ron understood, returning to his old 'house'. However, he kept looking back at Ron with an awkward curiosity.

"So Ron," he eventually began, "How are you er... Enjoying school?"

Ron blinked at the sudden question, and the pause. When a spy said something or asked a question, it was usually spoken with clarity. Unless they had run into his dad, Aunt Tasha or Uncle Nick and had gotten in trouble shortly before. This man, wait-

Bruce Banner had similar mannerisms. He was quiet, mousy and would sometimes stammer when Tony had said something bizarre. Arthur was surprisingly like Hermione's guardian and cousin.

"I'm enjoying it. The teachers are nice," Ron responded neutrally.

"So firsties," one of the twins, Ron was sure it was George, popped out, "What's your _favorite_ class?"

"Oh! I am really enjoying charms. Although, transfiguration is fun too," Hermione spoke quickly.

"Transfiguration is nice. I enjoy Professor McGonagal's classes. She's a good teacher."

"I like potions. It makes me feel like a mad scientist."

"Whoa! You like Professor _Snape's_ class?"

It was hardly surprising that Fred, or one of the twins, said this.

"Yes. He's like a magical Gordon Ramseys. He's showing us how to put a bunch of things together and WHAM! A magical potion of untold power."

"He's terrible!"

"George!"

"What? He's not George I am!"

"Oh, sorry dear."

"What? Forge how could you?"

"Sorry Gred, but mum's scarier."

"Why do you _enjoy_ potions," Percy asked with a bizarre tone. It was questioning in a way that indicated a fear of an answer. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Because it reminds me of the labs back home."

Hermione looked over to Ron in sympathy, while Harry did more in confusion. Varying levels of pain appeared on the Weasley families face.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying classes Ron," Molly responded with a small, albeit, sad smile, actually glad he was enjoying some of his classes, despite the mention of _his_ home.

* * *

"Sweet Merlin," one man said looking through the overseas mail, "More packages for Hogwarts."

"Good lord. How many packages are getting sent?"

"Lost count."

"Just get some owls. These things are taking up way too much room. Who the hell are they for anyway?"

"Eh... some Granger girl... and oh man, Arthur's kids.

"What?"

"I think his twins have found one of those overseas ordering forms."

"Great. Just great."

* * *

"Is your familiy always like that?" Harry asked Ron.

"I wouldn't know exactly."

Both had spent a few hours with the whole of Gryffindor left in the castle sans Professor Mc Gonagall. The twins had somehow been able to turn Percy's hair purple despite everyone being in the same room. Molly had been busy trying to keep some semblance of normalcy. Although, she had talked to Ron for a good fifteen minutes in moderately decent conversation. She was a little nosy, but as he had seen, it had been that way with everyone. Something he hadn't seen when he had first been in their little bungalow.

She had been so focused on him. Hell, all the Weasleys were. But, given that he had been within a mile's distance between the twins or Percy at any given time, they seemed to have mellowed, if only slightly. Bill and Charlie were just as he remembered them really. Both being cool and for the most part well collected. They kind of reminded him of the new recruits his dad would often scare, much to his Uncle Nick's irritation. Ginny had been over the moon to see the brothers she knew, obviously relishing in the attention as they told stories of their time in Hogwarts or at work respectfully.

"Is it because of, well, what happened before school?" Harry continued cautiously. It was a touchy subject between the two of them, even if they were still friends.

"Yeah. I didn't really interact with them before school started. Not really. It was all so fast. What about your family? What are they like?" Ron attempted to redirect the conversation. Harry seemed to curl in on himself as he got into bed.

"They're... muggle. My uncle works at Grunnings. They make drills. Aunt Petunia stays home. And Dudley hangs out with the neighborhood kids."

"That's it? C'mon, you've said you lived with them since you were little right? So, what are they like?"

"Uncle Vernon is... large. A little intimidating," Harry spoke softly, choosing his words with precision, "Aunt Petunia is a... curious lady. She likes to know things. And Dudley, he likes to run around, leading people."

"Huh. Okay."

Ron wouldn't press it anymore at the moment. Apparently, family was touchy with Harry, like it was with Ron.

"So, looking forward to Christmas?"

Harry grinned, happy to leave the previous string of conversation behind.

"Absolutely."

"Glad to hear it."

"Aren't you going to bed?"

"In a minute. I'm going to write my dad a letter first," he admitted. There was a flicker in Harry's eyes Ron didn't recognize, but was familiar with. His Aunt had the same look on occasion, usually when he was off to do something with his dad and she was busy.

"Alright. See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning Harry."

* * *

"Oh why did he have to write a letter tonight?" Fred groaned stiffling a yawn.

"Come off it Forge, and help me catch this bloody bird."

"You would think by now we would actually be decent at this."

"What are you two doing?"

"GAAAAH!"

"FUAAAAH!"

"Oh Merlin Bill! Don't do that!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Seeing what trouble you two are getting into now of course."

"Trouble?"

"Us?"

"Why we never-!"

"Guys. I won't tell mum if you tell me now," he bribed.

"Trying to get the mail from the owl."

"Something funny keeps happening when Ron sends a letter and apparently it doesn't make it to America."

"And the mail doesn't return either."

"Well, _now_ it does but that's beside the point."

"But we need to get that letter in _this_ envelope for it to reach its' destination."

Bill groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"If I help you with this now, will you explain more in the morning?"

"Sure."

"Alright."

With little time and effort, Bill caught the bird and retrieved the envelope. He was surprised to the see the twins duplicate the letter and shove the original into their envelope and send both off to whomever the letters were for.

"You two are so-"

"Explaining in the morning," Fred interrupted.

"We know," George added. And they did as soon as Ron slipped out in the early morning hours to who knew where.

* * *

"Hello Ron, ready for today's training?" Strange asked with a warm smile. Ron didn't smile back.

"We're just using the same spell on larger jars. Can't I learn something else?"

"Ron, sorcery isn't like wizardry."

"Well, what is the difference. I mean, it feels a little different but what's so different about it?" Ron huffed. Strange wasn't the least bit insulted. In fact, he hardly seemed phased.

"An excellent question Ron. Each person with the capability of preforming magic has their own blend of how their magic prefers to be utilized," he began pulling out an old scroll. He unraveled it show show an odd line chart.

"As of our current day and age, there are four primary branches of magic."

"Four?"

"Yes. Sorcery, Wizardry, Druidism, and Voodooism."

"What does this have to do with repeating spells?"

"Well Ron, each branch of magic has a preferred learning method. While practice is needed to master any spell, some require build up to prepare the magic as well as the mind. Wizardry for example, tends to be similar to riding a bicycle, it is incredibly hard not to be able to perform a spell once you have it mastered. Sorcery on the other hand, must be refined and well practiced again and again to keep it efficient. So I have you practice the same spell on larger objects to not only better your magic, but to help you master the spell."

"What about Druidism and the Voodoo whatnot? How would I learn those?"

"You wouldn't?"

"Why not? It's all magic."

"Your magic is disagreeable with Druidism at best, and given your inherent magical gift in sorcery," he said pointing at one end of the line, "Voodooism would be dire for you to learn," he spoke, his hand ghosting to the other end of the line.

"Sorcery and Voodooism are opposite spectrums of magic, whereas Wizardry and Druidism are more balanced and closer to center."

"I am so confused. It's, a line?"

"It's alright Ron. I know it can be confusing. When I was learning my magic, I was not told of other branches of magic until I was well rooted. Granted, I have almost entirely sorcery based magic within me."

"Mostly?"

"I have found that I do possess the capacity to learn a few weaker druid spells. Mainly within the healing arts. However, the healing I can preform with my own sorcery is far stronger than what I can learn with my slight Druid leaning."

"Oh. So I can't learn that type of magic?"

"No one person can learn all types of magic Ron. Our bodies aren't meant for it. However, there are skills that all magic users may possess. But that is a lesson for another time. Now, grab your jar-"

"Is there anything special about seeing creatures with magic?" Ron interrupted. Strange paused and looked over Ron carefully.

"Explain."

"Well... Neville was leaving for Holiday break, and there was this creature pulling the cart. I could see it, but Hermione and Harry couldn't. Is it because I have sorceror magic?"

Strange adopted a somber look.

"Despite popular belief, no one magic can see a creature that another cannot. That said, there are creatures that exist that appear to individuals who have fufilled certain requirements."

"Requirements? Like what?"

"Well, it depends on the creature. Some require a task be completed before they can be seen, others, a life event."

"Life event? Like what?"

"Something common place, but not immediate to all. Such as witnessing death."

Ron shivered.

"I take it you have seen death before Ron?"

"Once. I was younger. About seven. I wanted to see my dad so I snuck out of the room. I got to the hangers when some agents returned from a mission..."

"You saw one of them die."

"He was badly hurt. I could've sworn... he looked me in the eye before he died. My dad and Aunt Tasha stayed all night with me, trying to explain to me just what exactly they did, and telling me that they would be fine."

"I see. Death is a requirement for a few creatures. Now Ron, listen to me very carefully, did you tell anyone else what you saw?"

Ron shook his head.

"Keep it quiet for now. Not many people understand creatures that appear for requirements, and if it is a creature that is only seen after witnessing death..."

 _There may be another trial._

It went unsaid but Ron understood. From what he knew, part of what made it difficult for his dad to have any time with him custody wise was because of his dangerous occupation. If it was revealed he had witnessed death, then it was possible that the British government would attempt to fight the custody battle again. And Ron knew he wouldn't have a ghost of a chance with his dad if that happened.

"Now, I know this is a bit overwhelming, but we do need to practice. I think you'll find it can help relax you, and clear your mind once you have it down. Shall we?"

Ron let out a small reassured smile and picked up a jar, ready to continue making the jars safe for potions ingredients from sorcery magic.

* * *

Time seemed to move quickly as the feel of Christmas infected the inhabitants of the castle. Except Professor Snape. Ron found it kind of funny. It fit the stern man. Similarly to how his Uncle Nick was dragged into the festivities by his Uncle Phil, or his Auntuncle FitzSimmons. It made him miss home a bit more but tried to put it aside for now.

Everyone else however seemed to be enjoying themselves with "traditional" Christmas foods that just reminded Ron of all the food they normally had every day in the castle, even if everyone else said it was special. Grander. Something whimsical and worth celebrating. He was sure it was, but he had other things in mind.

"I'm just saying Harry, it's all pretty much the same food. What I wouldn't _give_ for a taco right now."

"A taco Ron? Really?"

"What? You got a problem with tacos Harry?"

"No. But I can't imagine you eating them."

"Harry. I'm an American. Most Americans are subject to eating at least one taco in their life time. And they are delicious and why can't we have tacos here?"

"Ron, are you craving foreign foods again?"

"'Mione, they only serve _British_ food here. It. All. Tastes. The. Same."

"It does not. Honestly you have no working taste buds"

"Mione, I haven't had anything spicy since I've been in America! Everything is the same ingredients."

"You mean spices?"

"Exactly. Right now, British foods bore me."

Harry looked at Ron perplexed while Hermione looked exasperated.

It was a weird conversation in one of the many halls, with unknown ears listening in.

* * *

Despite being miles apart, two individuals watched the sky before they slept, said a small prayer that they had shared for years on the one night that Saint Nick was said to visit millions of little children across the world. Hushed words, jumbled in native English, and learned Russian, the two allowed sleep to overtake them. One on a bed an ocean away from home, the other, in a shack, awaiting the perfect opportunity to strike for his most recent mission.

As the night grew quiet, Molly Weasley stayed up late with her husband, distributing gifts under the tree and knitting stockings for the children lacking them. They were for Harry and Hermione, all stocking-less children. Something that seemed too strange for Molly. And _all_ of her children were going to have filled stockings, even if it was as simple as some sweets.

"Arthur, please hang these up would you?" Molly asked as she pulled out a bag. Arthur took the recently finished stockings and hung them up on the fire place. He looked back to see Molly pull out a dusty, but otherwise clean stocking. One that had been a simple red color with white stitching spelling out the name Ron. It had only been used once. There were a few loose strands she cut off, and added a small lion stitched onto the side, just like she had when all her other sons had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Arthur walked over to collect the stocking and hang it up, but Molly put her hand up, and stood from her seat. With shaky hands and tiredness, she hung the stocking on the fireplace, in between Fred and Ginny.

Eleven stockings hanging on the fireplace, with a soft fire glowing and sending warmth throughout the room. Two tired yet content adults, sat on one of the couches together and fell asleep, enjoying each others warmth.

* * *

Before the sun could rise, and the day was set to begin, children were waking, excited for the day's festivities to begin.

"Bill. Bill wake up!" a young male voice hissed. Bill groaned and rolled over in his bed, trying to ignore whoever was interrupting his sleep.

"Bill? Alright you asked for it."

Whoever it was, Bill wasn't quite sure, what he was sure was that they had just jumped on him.

"Urf! Get off!"

"Oh, awake are you?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake-! Yes! Now get off!" Bill complained. Using his strength from lifting treasure for Gringotts, he pushed the tackler off.

"Ow!"

"That was great Fred," a near identical voice laughed.

"Ugh. Next time, _you're_ tackling him."

"Nice. So let's go wake Charlie-"

"Gah!"

"Oh, sounds like Ginny got Charlie."

There was a laughing shriek and some heavy footfalls. It took no time at all before Charlie walked into the room with Ginny kicking and struggling with a large smile on her face as she attempted to escape Charlie's arms in a seemingly effortless princess carry.

Charlie dropped her on the bed next to Bill who put an arm around her shoulder.

"Great, now who's going to get Percy-?"

"Don't bother. I'm already up," a tired voiced groaned into the room.

"Aw."

"There goes that plan."

Despite how tired he was, Percy smirked at the twins. It was always a win when he could foil their plans. Especially when his sleep was involved.

"Mm hm," Percy hummed, walking over to Bill's bed, he joined his brother and Ginny on the soft surface. There was an easy quiet as they all waited in Bill's "room".

It was in this quiet that Ginny asked a question.

"Who's going to wake Ron?"

"Oh!"

"That's right-!"

"I'll-"

"We'll-"

"I think-"

"Quiet!"

Everyone stopped talking and turned to face Bill.

"Look, while this isn't Ron's _first_ Christmas with us, this will be the first one he remembers."

Charlie nodded his head solemnly. It had been when Ron was about seven months old, before Ginny was born,and back when the twins didn't really seem to like Ron for taking their mother's attention. Percy had been so focused on his big brothers at that age that he hadn't paid much attention to the surprise baby.

"So, Fred, George, Ginny..."

"Oh yes!"

"C'mon Ginny!"

"Guys!"

The three youngest in the room ran quickly out of the room to go collect the last Weasley.

"Are sure you it's a good idea to let them wake Ron?"

"Eh. It's tradition. Eh Perce?"

Percy grumbled, leaning his head on Bill's shoulder drowzily as his brothers laughed, knowing of Fred and George's infamous waking of Percy on holidays and birthdays.

* * *

"Aw, he looks so innocent."

"It would be a shame to wake him."

Ginny gave the twins a look.

"Really?"

"You're right Ginny."

"Let's wake him."

Fred and George did a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, with George winning. Fred huffed and stood back. George grinned and charged the bed. He flopped right on top of the bed getting a grunt from below.

"Awake yet Ron?"

"Get... off."

George laughed as Ron squirmed underneath. He did relent and got off his brother. He grinned when Ron sat up, looking just as irritable as Percy did normally in the morning.

"Morning Ronnie."

"Happy Christmas."

"Ugh," Ron fell back onto the pillow and turned his back to his brothers and sister, "Wake me up at a more _reasonable_ hour."

"Oh Ron," George sighed with a mischievous note.

"Where's that Christmas spirit?" Fred slightly mocked.

"Don't you want to celebrate?" Ginny giggled. Ron turned his head around and glared slightly.

"It is too early. Let me sleep."

"Oh man. He takes after Percy."

"We'll have to work on that."

"And what better way, than getting him out for Christmas."

"Indeed."

Ron stiffened as he felt cold hands grab his ankles.

"Gah!" he cried out as he was pulled out of bed. He squirmed but couldn't get away. He was pulled to his feet and felt an arm go around his shoulder.

"Ginny, why?" Ron moaned dramatically.

"Sorry. But Christmas is more important than sleep."

"I trusted you with my sleep," Ron grumbled thinking back to being in the house when he scared her to be quiet.

"C'mon Ron, everyone is waiting in Bill's room."

The dark room suddenly lit up and the four turned to face a tired faced Harry.

"Oh, morning Harry."

"Morning Ron."

"Happy Christmas Harry." Fred jumped in as George kept Ron from slipping back into his bed.

"Happy Christmas."

"Come join us Harry," Fred commented. Ginny squeaked and hid behind George, a blush on her face.

"O-okay," Harry said slipping out of bed. Ginny seemed to clam up before running out of the room. Fred and George gave each other a knowing grin while Harry and Ron watched, confused.

"Oh, Ginny is, kind of a big fan of yours Harry."

"What?"

"Absolutely the biggest fan."

"Erm..."

"C'mon you two. Christmas is well on its way and we aren't missing any more of it."

"Wait, it's too early-"

"Guys? Are you up yet?"

"Mione?"

"Oh," she appeared around the corner in her own pajamas.

"Happy Christmas everyone."

"Happy Christmas," Harry responded.

"Happy Christmas little firstie."

"May this day be as wild as it is enjoyable."

"Merry Christmas Hermione." Ron sighed out, acknowledging she was there.

"Merry?"

"Is that an American thing?"

"Dunno. I kind of like it."

"Merry Christmas."

"MERRY Christmas."

"Sounds festive."

"C'mon Ron, Harry, let's go wish everyone a _Merry_ Christmas."

"You too missy."

"Wai- what time is it anyway?" Ron groaned searching for a battery powered clock his dad had given him before coming to Hogwarts.

"Dunno. Early?"

Ron found the clock and flopped his head back on the pillow.

"It's six in the morning. Wake me up at a more reasonable hour."

"What? How can you say that? It's Christmas!"

"I don't have class. I want to sleep."

The twins looked at one another and gave each other a knowing look.

Harry slipped out of his bed and walked over to Hermione, giving the twins plenty of space. The twins walked to the head and foot of the bed. With quick and what appeared to be practiced motion, tone twin slipped his hands underneath the blanket and grabbed his feet, while the other slipped his arms underneath Ron's. And then they lifted him up. Ron yelped and squirmed as Fred and George carried him out of the room.

"Come on you two! Join us in Bill's room."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Harry asked.

"Pft. We've done it to Perce before."

"Being beaters does have benefits. And Ron's not that heavy."

"Put me down!"

"Nope."

"Christmas waits for no one."

* * *

Clint sighed as he gave a silent plea to any higher being that Ron would enjoy Christmas. Just as he always did when he was on a mission during the holidays. With careful motions, he continued on with his mission.

Though distasteful, there were some unavoidable aspects of his job. Such as killing some assholed terrorists. Granted, he wasn't sure exactly how it ended up being _his_ job but... Eh, there were worse things in life.

* * *

Ron wasn't sure, when within the madness, he had been dragged down to the common room with his brothers and sister, along with Harry and Hermione. Molly and Arthur were sitting next to one another on a love seat, next to a roaring fire with colorful stockings and a tree with a plethora of presents beneath.

Stacks of wrapped boxes and bright Christmas lights were center place in the room, filling the room with holiday cheer.

"Good morning everyone. Come sit! Bill, Charlie you have the tree this year."

"What?" Ron questioned.

"Two people always stand by the tree and hand everyone their gifts. It's easier than a mad scramble," Percy explained doing his best to keep his mild excitement off his face.

"Fred, George, these are for you- From me," Charlie spoke smugly in Bill's direction. Ron, Harry and Hermione watched in confusion.

"What is-?" Harry began but his question seemed to die in his mouth.

"Oh," Percy began with a slight smirk to his lips, "Bill and Charlie can get a little competitive when it comes to giving gifts. Though I don't know exactly _where_ they got that habit."

Fred and George gave Percy an odd look but said nothing as they tore into their gifts. Grins broke out on their faces to see bats, just like the ones used in Quiditch.

"Nice!"

"Thanks Charlie!"

"Can't wait to try these bad boys out."

"Well, you can wait until after you unwrap _my_ gift can't you?" Bill butted in. Truthfully, it kind of reminded him of his Auntuncle FitzSimmons. They could get a bit competitive too when the mood struck them. His chest hurt as the thought lingered. He really missed them all.

He had missed what Bill had given the twins, although, given his triumphant look, he guessed that he had won, whatever was going on between him and Charlie.

The gifts seemed to be distributed quickly, in a mad house. Everyone had gotten a sweater from Molly, Ron gave a weak smile and slipped the maroon garment on with the large gold R. He could give her this, the garment was soft, and looked like it was done by hand. He wondered exactly where she-

"Mum makes sweaters for everyone," Fred told Harry quietly when Molly and Arthur walked out of the room for some morning tea. Ron blinked, glad to have heard an answer to a question he missed. He looked back at the sweater. It was a rather nice sweater, and she added a small box of fudge he had already begun to nibble on while waiting to head down to breakfast.

"Hey Ron! Open mine next!" Bill interrupted his thoughts and fudge eating. Ron found a well wrapped package in his lap and knowing expressions on each Weasley face. He looked at the cleanly wrapped box and began slowly unwrapping the gift as Molly and Arthur returned with many mugs of hot chocolate, distributing them among their children, Harry and Hermione. Ron took his mug and placed it next to him so he could finish unwrapping whatever it was that Bill had gotten for him.

Inside, was a box. He looked back at Bill in confusion. It was a nice box surely. It was a bit bigger than the one he kept his gloves in, and had many crazy etchings on the top and sides.

"Erm... thanks for the box."

Charlie then burst out laughing surprising Ron, Harry and Hermione. Charlie walked over to Bill looking rather pleased. Bill rolled his eyes and focused back on Ron.

"It's not just any box Ron. It was enchanted with Runes, the ones you see decorating the box. It keeps unwanted individuals from opening it."

Ron's eyes lit up. The box was suddenly looking a lot cooler.

"That's awesome!"

"Glad you like it Ron," Bill said with a slightly smug tone. Charlie sent Bill a weak glare and pulled out a small lumpy paper parcel thing.

"Open mine Ron. I think you'll like it."

Ron took it and looked over at both Hermione and Harry. Both were looking over the sweaters and cady they recieved from Molly as well as unwrapping the gifts Neville left for them. He tore into package and found what looked like a large, shark's tooth necklace. It looked fierce and intimidating. Although, he wasn't sure why Charlie would give him a shark tooth.

"Thanks."

"Came from a Norwegian Ridgeback."

Ron didn't say anything. Weird name for a shark. Oh, who was he to judge? He didn't name the animals. He slid the necklace on over the sweater, with his arrow necklace underneath his pajamas.

"Wait? A Norwegian Ridgeback? That's a dragon's tooth?" Hermione asked darting over. Ron jumped as she entered his personal space to get a closer look at the tooth, "Whoa."

"A dragon's tooth? Where did you-?"

"I work at a dragon's reserve. A few milk teeth here and there aren't _too_ difficult to find."

"Nice," Ron said quietly, not quite sure how a lizard could have milk teeth when they didn't even _drink_ milk. Hermione let go after a few minutes allowing Fred and George to hand Ron his gift. Rather simple, a few sweets from a nearby town. Ginny's was similar but with a different array.

Percy then handed Ron a heavy box. Ron didn't waste time opening it, wanting to head to breakfast and ignore how it appeared nothing had arrived from his dad.

Inside the box were figures, some black, some white. He took out a crouched over figure with many nicks and scrapes only to hear Arthur gasp. He looked over at Percy and then back to Ron.

"My- Your great-great-grandfather's chess set?"

"Wait? What?" Ron looked back over the pieces again. They didn't look like the chess pieces he had seen living back in America, physical or electronic never had such human like physical features. The damage distinguished them with age, although, he did wonder how many of them received their scratches, sans a piece that seemed to be the king.

"That set, was my great-grandfather's set. It was a gift from my great-grandmother to him. He loved mind games and treasured it for years. It has been handed down each generation," Arthur explained.

Ron couldn't hide a soft smile from his face as he pulled each piece out to inspect closely. His dad didn't have much when it came to family treasures. Too much travel, fighting and bad memories made every possible family heirloom, disappear.

"Oy! Harry! You got another one."

"I do?" Harry questioned with hope and a bit of wariness. Charlie brought over a larger, and lumpy package with Harry's name clearly written on it. He read the note aloud, "Your father left this in my care before he died, use it well."

There was a slight chill from the winter day outside as well as the morbidness of the note.

Harry opened the package slowly, perhaps, a bit wary of the contents. Maybe to savor the moment. Removing the paper, he revealed a swishy fabric like material.

"Whoa."

"Is that-?"

"Arthur!"

"Harry, may I?" Arthur asked in both fascination and concern.

"Wait! Put it on!"

"George don't-!"

"Hey-! He's not George I am!"

Ron chuckled.

"Harry, put it on!"

"Ronald!"

"Aren't you curious Mione?"

Hermione crossed her arms and looked back at the clock. With all the chaos occuring, Harry slipped the fabric over his shoulders to conceal his body. In fact-

"Holy crap!" Ron yelled, his eyes bugged and he jumped back. Out of everything he had seen, this was the most bizarre. The cloak disappeared, and took Harry's body with it, leaving only a floating head.

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Molly gasped out in shock over Ron's words. Ron couldn't even react to the name with just what he was seeing.

"His body's gone!"

"Whoa."

"An invisibility cloak."

"I heard they were really rare."

"Imagine the pranks we could do..."

"No, absolutely not. Harry, do not let Fred or George use the cloak."

"Spoilsport Perce."

"Harry," Arthur stepped in. He stood tall and slightly nervous, yet filled with authority, "What you have there, is a very rare, and powerful artifact. Who gave it to you?"

"The note didn't say."

The crackling of the fire was all anyone heard for what felt like hours.

"Harry, whoever it was that gave it to you, believes you are ready for this inheritance. I believe the note... says it best. Use it well, and when needed."

The smile that came from Harry seemed to burn brighter than the fire in the room.

* * *

After the presents were distributed, and everyone head down to breakfast, the twins made their way to the bathroom where things grew... complicated.

"That's a lot of packages."

"Yes Gred. Yes it is."

"You have the paper right?"

"Always."

"Alright. Do you want-?"

"No way. I'll do the paper. You contain the birds."

"Damn."

* * *

"Please. Don't do this-!"

"That's funny. But I do have a kid to take care of."

"I'll pay you! What is it that you want? Money? Women? Please anything!" the man pleaded. Clint sighed. He knew the man wouldn't pay up. And he would continue extorting and killing people if left to his own devices.

"Then give me a safer world for my son," he said shooting his arrow into his heart. The man choked, and grabbed at his chest, only to die in his chair. Covered in sweat, grime and blood, Clint snuck out of the room and made his way to the safe point, in which he would be taken back to SHIELD headquarters for a debrief, followed by Stark's awkwardly larger than life tower to sleep in, and a shower.

* * *

"What are you making?" Bruce asked walking into Stark's ridiculously large kitchen. There in the middle of it was the famed Black Widow, aka, Natasha Romanoff.

"Russian tea cookies."

"Ah. Because of the holidays?"

"Tradition."

Bruce hummed and went to go make coffee. He doubted he would get anything more out of the assassin spy.

"They are Ron's favorite cookie."

Bruce paused. He hadn't heard a lot about Ron from Natasha. It was always Clint who would give information on small quirks he did based on his son. But never Natasha.

"So you make them every year?"

"When I'm in the mood."

And back to the ever cryptic spy.

* * *

Ron dug into breakfast with gusto, sitting between Harry and Hermione.

"Slow down Ron, breakfast isn't going to go anywhere," Hermione commented. Ron swallowed his mouthful and gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I'm kind of used to eating breakfast sooner after I wake up. We used to wait to open presents until after breakfast."

"And it's really good," Harry added, digging into his food while also mesmerized by the festively decorated hall.

"Oh boys," Hermione half halfheartedly groaned.

"Oh come on Mione, dig in! There is plenty and it's Christmas."

Hermione rolled her eyes but filled her plate with a variety of food.

There was louder chatter at the Gryffindor table with the Weasley clan all gathered for the holidays. Other students sat at a distance, many at their own house's table while watching the group interact in fascination. Especially when a large owl came from above and dropped a package in front of Hermione. She sat in surprise for a moment before opening the large parcel. Inside were four small wrapped gifts. One for herself, one for Ron, one for Harry, and one for Neville from Bruce.

She handed Ron and Harry their wrapped gifts and opened her own. She squealed in delight as she saw it was a leatherbound copy of The Hobbit.

"Oh I have been wanting to read this!"

"The hobbit?" Ron asked looking over her shoulder.

"Yes! I've heard it is the beginning of quite the epic and that it is such a good series."

"So long as you're happy," Ron shrugged, tearing into his along side Harry. Both recieved blank journals of decent quality. Ron assumed that was what Neville's gift was as well. Though, with the arrival of a package from Bruce, he wondered if-where the package was from his dad. He knew his dad wouldn't forget Christmas. Even if he couldn't come home, he always had something planned.

He kept quiet as the twins arrived in the hall looking a bit winded from their trip to the bathroom. They practically collapsed on the bench and began digging into breakfast much like how Ron had not too long ago.

"Might want to watch how much you eat guys. If you're that winded from coming from the _bathroom_ of all places..."

"Very funny Charlie."

"We're fine."

"Just hungry."

Bill gave them a look, to which they both brushed off with their own goofy grins.

Minutes passed as people talked and ate, Hermione trying to read her new book when a loud screech echoed in the halls. Every occupant looked up to see numerous owls flying into the room with many packages. All, which seemed to be distributed on the Gryffindor table. Ron chuckled as he _knew_ where the packages were from. He walked over and read his name on the numerous parcels.

"Merlin Ron! Got any for us?" Fred joked. Ron stuck his tongue out and opened one of the boxes. He blinked and gave a knowing grin.

"Oh I don't know," he said reaching inside and pulled out a wrapped present, "This one says, "For George" but what do I know?"

"What? Really? Let me see that!" George spoke loudly and jumped over behind Ron to look into one of the boxes, "Blimey. There's one for all of us."

"What really?"

"No way."

"Way!" George said stealing the box from Ron and handing out the packages inside, including gifts for Arthur and Molly. Both Molly and Arthur looked confused and a touch concerned while the children all opened their packages with small notes seeming to explain _why_ he got them what he did.

Bill had received a set of collector's coins from the United States, no doubt funded by Tony. Charlie, a Swiss Army knife, of SHIELD quality. Percy received a notebook, similar to the ones Harry and Ron had gotten from Bruce, but with a lock on it. Fred and George looked confused, pulling various unknown muggle pranking items from their boxes including most notably, a whoopie cushion. Ginnie had gotten a doll that looked slightly demented, with a scowl on it's face and braid down it's back, it reminded Ron of the moments when he was really little and his dad would put on The Addams Family. It seemed as though the gifts got a pass as each sibling smiled at their gifts.

Ron took this as an opportunity to look through the other boxes, handing out the ones with different names to their owners, and piling his own in a neat little pile. He paused when he saw wrapped packages for Arthur and Molly. He handed them slowly over to them, both surprised and carefully taking them. Ron averted his eyes back to the packages and smiled seeing gifts from his Auntuncle FitzSimmons, Uncle Phil, Aunt Tasha, and Uncle Nick. Although, why each gift was in a separate box when it was pretty clear that his dad had been the one to mail them out, he didn't know.

His dad's box to him had a special flourish, a doodle of an arrowhead and his script writing. Ron opened the box and grinned impishly, pulling out a non-magical magician's beginner kit. He showed Harry and Hermione who were bemused at best, before he put it back in his stack of boxes. He then looked at the remaining boxes.

It didn't help that it appeared there were boxes much larger and Ron wasn't sure who sent them. He opened them anyways. He couldn't help but laugh seeing the elegantly wrapped gifts and the large script cards addressed to everyone. Weasleys, his friends, everyone his dad had sent gifts to, Tony had too. It took no time distributing the smaller boxes from Tony, it took a bit longer with the larger gifts.

"Whoa."

"Those are... Really big teddy bears."

Ron didn't know why, where, or how, but Tony had somehow gotten it into his head to give all the "kids" stuffed bears that were about Hagrid's size. Each in different colors. Ron was amused to see his had been made black and purple, much like his dad's favored vest.

"How on earth are we going to get these back to the tower?" Percy questioned looking over the Bears.

"How are we going to get them home?" Bill added.

"Well we could use a shrinking cha-"

"Nay."

"What?"

"We say nay!" The twins stood up, their chests puffed out as if a challenge had been thrown.

"Gred and I will carry ours up, ourselves."

"They are far too grand to merely shrink down!"

"Oh for goodness sakes-"

"Oh my- no way- Ronald? Harry? Did he-?"

"He did," Ron nodded his head. Within the Weasley discussion, Ron, Harry and Hermione opened the smaller gift from Tony. A sleek, brand new cell phone, with no service bars.

"What is that?" Arthur asked while Molly had been dragged into the discussion of moving the Bears, much to the amusement of the other students and many of the staff.

Needless to say, it didn't take the three muggle raised students to pretty much give up on trying to explain cell phones to Arthur, despite the fact that everyone had received one. Especically since none of them seemed to be working in the old castle.

* * *

It was well into the evening after filling meals, lots of running around and gift exchange with all in bed that Ron found himself being shaken awake. His eyes flew open to see a rather excited and awake, Harry.

"Harry? What are you doing up it's... Late o clock," Ron grumbled not even knowing what time it was.

"Ron, I'm sorry to wake you but there is something I need to show you."

"Now?"

"Now. Please Ron, it's important."

Ron yawned and reluctantly slipped out of bed. He slipped on a pair of slippers and followed Harry out of the room. He was surprised to see Harry throwing the invisibility cloak over both of them. His skin tingled slightly where it brushed up against the cloak. He was surprised how easy it was to see out of the magical fabric, even with the folds of fabric slightly obscuring his vision.

The two stayed close under the cloak as Ron followed Harry, his question still lingering, what was Harry doing up? Of course, he didn't ask as it was an _invisibility_ cloak, not a silencer cloak.

Twisting down the corridors, they came to a door, much like the others in the hall. Harry opened it slowly to avoid creaking as Peeves floated down the hall with a manic grin.

They entered a spacious room with a lack of chairs and desks. In fact, the only thing in the room was a mirror. A very large mirror. The cloak was removed and Harry darted over to the mirror. He looked at it and began grinning.

"Come here Ron, you've got to see this."

Ron walked over and saw, Harry. Just Harry's reflection.

"You see them don't you?"

"See who?"

"My family- here, stand where I am," Harry said grabbing Ron by the shoulders and placing him where he had stood. Ron glanced at Harry in confusion when he saw movement in the mirror. He froze.

There, standing next behind him was his dad. His breath caught for a moment when his Aunt Tasha appeared. His Uncle Nick too. A smile creeped onto his face seeing them all so content, even when the twins appeared.

His smile dampened. The twins? Sure enough, both Fred and George appeared and were "rough housing" with Aunt Tasha and Uncle Nick. Percy walked into the frame casually and stood next to his dad.

His heart soared. His stomach fell.

"You see them now right? All of them. My family."

"No. Harry I don't." He quickly walked away, tears pooling in his eyes. He turned his back on the mirror as Harry looked desperate to look into again, but also concerned with Ron's reaction.

"You didn't see them?"

"I saw _my_ dad. The one in America. My Aunt Tasha and my Uncle Nick too. A-and I saw Fred, and George... And Percy too."

"You think, this mirror shows our families?" Harry asked.

"I don't know." Ron glanced over at the mirror in longing and distain, "Whatever it is, I don't like it Harry. We should leave."

"I want to see my parents again."

Ron bit his lower lip and stepped aside.

"Just for a minute. Then we go back."

Harry graciously smiled and stared intently at the mirror. Ron shivered as his eyes seemed to slightly gloss over. A minute ticked by slowly when Ron grabbed his arm. Harry jumped and looked over at Ron bewildered.

"C'mon Harry. Let's go back to the room."

* * *

"Nice to see you back in one piece," a dry voice commented. Clint glared at his friend and colleague, knowing quite well he looked like crap.

"Nice to see you too sunshine. How was your day in the kitchen?" he remarked. Natasha scowled at the sunshine nickname but decided against beating the crap out of him until after Christmas. Besides, she did have something that would be of interest to the tired and dirty archer.

"It was fine. There are some cookies on the counter-"

"Don't bribe me Tasha. I'm not getting up. Not even for _your_ cookies."

"-and a letter from Ron."

"I'm up."

Natasha smirked as he rolled off of the couch and began walking over as quickly as his sore body would allow, which actually wasn't too bad. He was used to pain and could work through it. And Ron's letter was surely something to work through the pain for.

He wasted no time in opening the parchment envelope and pulling out the parchment holiday card Ron had made due to his lack of funds. Clint couldn't help but smile at his ink Christmas tree that looked like awkward scribbles. The message of Merry Christmas obviously done so slowly with the darker and thicker ink, in an effort to look cleaner.

Inside the card were little messages of lighthearted things occurring at Hogwarts including cocoa drinking, snowball fights, and even missing his recipe for tacos. He chuckled at the letter and put it in his pocket. He then took out a smaller note from inside, from the twins.

"Happy Christmas Yankee Doodle."

"How creative," Natasha stated.

"It's certainly something."

"Come on Yankee Doodle, let's get you to bed."

"Ha ha, very funny Natasha."

* * *

Late that Christmas night, as all were in bed, most joyous from the celebration, there was a gathering of small creatures within the castle known as Hogwarts.

They were in the kitchens, slightly tired from Christmas celebration but enjoying it nonetheless. If anything, the hardworking creatures were curious.

"So you heard this from one of the children?"

"Yes. They had mentioned our food was... bland."

There was a collective gasp from the creatures who prized themselves on being able to please and do work. There were whispers among them on what to do. Never had a student commented their food was ever _bland_. Sure perhaps on occasion a bit predictable but never _bland._

"What should we do?"

"Don't fret! I believe this child gave us a solution. We just need to find a recipe for a... uh... Ta-ko."

"Tako? What is... Tako?"

* * *

 **Who has questions?!  
**

 **This looks... Kind of epic. My opinion of course. Granted, the goal was 8,000 words so...**

 **So much. So little time. So much taco.  
**

 **And while this isn't my favorite chapter, I did enjoy writing it. And listening to "In Our Bedroom After the War" by Stars, was a great inspiration.**

 **To all who may feel offense to "all British food tasting the same" I am sorry. I am just speaking from my personal experience that when you eat one culture's food for an extended period of time, it starts to kind of all taste the same unless someone else is preparing it from usual. And with Ron living in America, there seems to be a wild variety. Especially with a circus Clint.**

 **Happy holidays everyone, and oh! If you would be so kind as to review... Three questions for you all, I want to know favorite foods, and an opinion based on this story here, what is something "Son of the Archer" Ron would be afraid of? Let's make it something tangible people.**

 **And for the third, WHO IS THE MAILMAN?!**


	20. Hatching

**A laugh and a half everyone! So I thought I did a nice job on my previous post of this chapter. I liked it fine. But then, oh boy. My sister, who reads this story, tells me I messed up. That I already did this chapter back at chapter 14 and I look back and realize... She wasn't wrong. So sorry for all this. I messed up. Now after some editing and revamping, I would like you all to see, the new chapter 20.**

Ron didn't know where the time went. It felt like no time at all had passed from Christmas to the end of break. He had broken into his dad's gift and began practicing the odd tricks mainly, messing with Fred or George using card tricks. He wasn't too bad either, if the confused yet awed expressions on their faces were any indication as he was able to get their card everytime.

"That's not right."

"Do it again!"

"Very well," Ron said with a grin. Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes as Ron baffled the two once more. Arthur and Molly watched carefully as Ron confused them.

"Darn it! How did you do that?!"

"Magic."

Arthur chuckled, being familiar with the concept of muggle magic tricks. He knew of the little tricks, even if he hadn't known how to pull them off.

"I swear, where is he learning this?"

Harry and Hermione shared a knowing smile. The day after Christmas, he insisted on them watching as he practiced his magic from the kit Clint got for him, even if Harry seemed a bit distracted and aloof. It took about two days for Harry to actually focus, for whatever reason. Ron was just glad that he didn't seem to be going to see that strange mirror. Harry was hardly quiet at night when he attempted to see the mirror again. But one night, he seemed to just stop, just stopped one night.

Ron was more than pleased. But even more so with the fact that Molly and Arthur, Bill, Charlie and Ginny would all be leaving soon. It was strange. He had sat next to each of them at least once at meals. Bill had made odd conversation talking about goblins he worked with and treasures he found. He also asked Ron questions about living in America. Ron clammed up and felt his face redden, not knowing what to say exactly. Especially with the mirror.

He knew if he said anything, they'd all look sad. And something in Ron sat wrong and made him go quiet. It was the same with Charlie, only replace Goblins with dragons. He didn't mind sitting next to Ginny though, she asked him all sorts of questions about Hogwarts. He was fine talking about his schooling. That was a _safe_ point of discussion.

* * *

It wasn't until after New Years that Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie and Ginny had to leave. Ron was thankful to see them leave, even if there was a slight, so slight, negligible really, ache at seeing them leave. But the joy at seeing Neville return to the school pushed away the negative emotion. Life seemed to continue on for the group of four, with moderate happiness and annoyances. For one, Draco Malfoy had not just taken to glaring at Harry lately, but would send a a curious glare in Ron's direction, before turning it more heated.

Although, they were more focused on their classes than the bleach blond boy. That and the the egg Hagrid had been hatching. While Neville was nervous about the egg, being apparently illegal and other wonderful nonsense, he was still rather curious to see one hatch. Ron wasn't going to lie here, he kind of wanted to know what a real life baby dragon looked like.

Which was an oppertunity they had all been given, when a letter appeared by Hedwig. A note simply saying ' _It's time.'_ Of course, they couldn't convince Hermione that they could skip one little lesson in favor of seeing a dragon hatch. And Meriln forbid they leave her behind in favor of watching a dragon hatch. So, the four all sat in potions, wishing the class would be over quickly, Ron could barely focus on what potion they were supposed to be learning, in favor of just making it and being done with it.

The four were the first out of the class, turning in their potions and rushing out, no doubt getting a few points taken off for "running", but even Hermione couldn't quite deny her interest in seeing a dragon hatch, or at least, a baby dragon.

"This is going to be so cool," Ron practically squealed. Harry gave a smile and Neville snorted as his pitch. Hermione however pulled to the front, her curiousity and excitement getting the best of her as well. They travelled through the steadily growing crowded halls, narrowly avoiding teachers as well as Percy scolding the twins for who knew what.

The grounds of the castle were cold as they stepped outside, but they didn't care. They knew Hagrid's hut would be plenty warm and the thrill of a dragon hatching was enough to have them run through the cold mud of melted snow.

With heavy breathing and adrenaline pumping, the four knocked on Hagrid's door. The door swung open with a familiar and friendly face.

"Hello all, well, are you coming in?"

The four entered the sweltering hut, seeing the egg placed on a pillow and out of the bubbling cauldron. There were faint scratching marks that could be heard from inside the shell. The ft he five gathered round the egg, fascinated by the noise.

"How long has it been making the noise?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno. Since this morning at least," Hagrid admitted, "Woke up to the little one trying to get out."

With that being said, there was a loud crack. The group jumped and saw a large crack near the top of the egg. Mere moments later, the egg seemed to explode. Egg shell flew in their faces and Hagrid's beard. Ron wiped a piece of eggshell from near his eye and Harry spat a piece out onto the floor. But the attention of all was on the small greenish colored winged lizard.

A soft screech came from the beast. It moved it's limbs and turned to face Hagrid.

"Oh! Blessed he knows his mummy!" Hagrid said excitedly. The dragon seemed to sneeze, sending small cinders and nearly caught Hagrid's beard on fire. Neville jumped back in alarm as Hagrid patted the scorched hair out. The dragon turned it's head then to the window. Something had caught it's attention.

"Now what's that?"

The four students turned to see what Hagrid and the dragon were trying to see. They all saw a quick fleeting pale faced and fair haired young student. Harry voiced what each young Gryffindor in the hut was thinking.

"Oh no."

 **Meh. That's all I've got to say. Now who enjoyed the beginning of a new year? I know I have at least survived it. I want to thank you all for food suggestions and reviews from the... Well every chapter I have posted.**

 **Now, while I could have done the whole entirety of the match, I think that many of you would have been bored if I had just basically rehashed from the book. So eh. This chapter is eh.**

 **Anyway... Let me know what's picking at your brains... What kind of spell do you think Strange should teach Ron next? Or, what's something so American or Muggle, you think Ron would introduce to the British Wizarding world.**


	21. Night mail

The four individuals continued walking the halls, keeping their ears open for whispers of Hagrid's dragon or of Malfoy sending news of the dragon to a teacher. None of them wanted Hagrid to get in trouble. And according to Neville, having a dragon was a very serious crime. Neville didn't go into what the punishment would or could be, just that it wasn't good.

However, much to their surprise, they heard nothing. No whispers, tumors or comments, just a dour looking Malfoy. Ron was truly and utterly bored. Granted, occasionally his hackles would be raised by a smirk from the platinum blond boy.

But more concerning, was the fact of the matter of Hermione freaking out over the end of the school year exams, and the rapidly growing dragon in Hagrid's hut. It didn't look as though the dragon would fit in the hut for very long. Not even a week and it was rivaling Ron's own lanky stature. A leathery and fierce creature that Hagrid babied to no end.

All that in mind, and his approaching birthday. Strange had already told him not worry about lessons that day, to just celebrate with his friends.

But how could he even think of relaxing with Hermione going over the class notes, color coding and getting the three boys to focus on their papers, and rereading books.

In short, it was exhausting. But with each and everyday, each letter that arrived be it from his father, his Aunt or his Uncle Nick, he was filled with renewed excitement and joy for the upcoming summer. Promises of finally being allowed onto the newly built archery range and learning how to fire an arrow, eating varieties of food, and showing his dad what he had learned both in school and from Strange.

But for now, he was next to help Hagrid take care of his dragon, recently named Norbert, with the feeding late at night while he wasn't going to be noticed missing. Well, he'd be less likely missed. Fred and George had been acting odd lately, actively both getting close and keeping their distance. Usually, one of them would talk to him while the other would move on the outer most wall of the room. Ron noted the odd behavior but thought it better not to ask. If it was a prank, he wanted to be able to deny it without any connection to the inevitable disaster. Percy was oddly uncaring about the odd behavior but perhaps he was just tired of dealing with the two and decided that once they had done... whatever it was they were planning, then he would act.

"Alright Ron, I've got some more Brandy," Hagrid said proudly, a bottle in one hand, a sack full of rats in the other. Ron felt his nose wrinkle in disgust.

"He's eating rats now?" he questioned.

"Yup. He's growing big and strong he is."

As it was, he was just hoping that he, nor his friends or Hagrid would get into trouble for what Neville had already mentioned, caring for an incredibly illegal and dangerous creature.

* * *

"Something has got to be done about that dragon," Ron muttered, sliding off Harry's invisibility cloak and handing it back to Harry. Harry, Hermione and Neville all looked tired, as they had been kind enough to wait up for him. He yawned and collapsed on one of the overly plush chairs in the common room, his eyes growing heavy.

"You can't sleep here Ron. We've got to go to our beds."

"Mione, the dragon. The thing is eating _rats_ now. I almost threw up my dinner hearing the bones crunching."

The room was quiet as no one knew how to respond. Then, in the light candle light, Harry's face seemed to light up slightly.

"Charlie," he said softly, looking at Ron. Ron opened one tired blue eye in confusion at Harry.

"No. I'm Ron."

It was Neville who realized what Harry meant mere seconds later.

"No wait, Harry's right-"

"I think I know my own name Neville." Ron responded sounding a bit cranky.

"Not that Ron. Charlie works at a dragon reserve. You can send him a letter."

"Why should I send him a letter? Why can't you Neville?"

"He'll read a letter from you, faster than he'll read one from me. You're his brother."

Ron opened his other tired eye and stared at Neville. His eyes then trailed over to Harry, then Hermione. Each one looking at Ron with hopeful eyes. Ron couldn't really deny it. Despite not knowing Charlie all that well, he was technically his brother.

"Fine. I'll go write the letter. Can I borrow the cloak Harry?"

"Sure. Why though?" Harry asked.

"Might as well do it now. Nobody's up but us. And the owlery isn't too far."

"You just want to get this done don't you?" Hermione asked. Ron merely gave a thumbs up in afirmative.

"Go to bed Hermione. We'll wait up for Ron. We do share a dorm so..."

"Right. Night boys."

"Night Mione," Ron yawned as he grabbed a quill and a bit of parchment and an envelope from his dwindling pile of self addressing envelopes. He wrote his message quickly, not thinking much about what the letter said word for wors, but knew the gist of the message was asking Charlie if he could take Hagrid's illegal baby dragon.

Letting the ink dry, he addressed the envelope like needed. Once dry, he slipped the cloak over his body, disappearing from sight. He sighed but left the Gryffindor common room and entered the dark halls of the castle. Walking as lightly as he could, he moved with as little sound as possible and made his way to the school owls. No doubt the midnight hour had already passed and only the staff would be wandering the halls with the ghosts if anyone.

His blood turned to ice as he saw a particularly mischievous spirit hiding using chalk to write crude words on the wall. He seemed to pause in his work, perhaps sensing something amiss. He turned his head around to stare at what appeared to be an empty hall. Against what Ron felt, he continued to quietly keep moving forward toward the owlery.

"Well, well. Who's out of bed? A wee firstie beastie? A little rondevous between the houses?" said the spirit with a wicked grin widening. Ron couldn't help but feel goosebumps on his arms from the smile. He had never seen him without his smile. Even when he was mad, there was always a slight upturn of his mouth. Something about it felt both unnatural, yet, incredibly familiar. He swore he heard Percy's voice echo in his head, not quite as playful or light as the Poltergiest.

 _Only the Bloody Baron can keep him in check_.

The Bloody Baron. His voice... painfully. A bit scratchy. But could he risk it?

It wasn't like he was sure Peeves would leave him alone. Nor that he could make his voice work correctly with being as nervous as he was. Instead, he slowled his pace slightly, like he had seen his dad do when he attempted to sneak up on his Aunt Tasha. That didn't deter the Poltergiest.

"Perhaps you want to play a game? It is rather _late_ though isn't it? I should call _Filch_. That would be the _responsible_ thing to do," he spat the last part out slightly bitterly. Ron didn't answer. Saying a word would mean being revealed, though, it could also call Peeves off...

"Peeves. What are you doing?" a new voice interrupted. Ron could swear that even though he was already dead, he grew a shade or so paler.

"Y-You're Bloodiness. I-I was just-"

"Leave Peeves. Myrtle is having a tantrum in her bathroom."

"Right," Peeves said in a slightly annoyed tone, "I'll see to her. You would think she would just-"

"I don't want to hear about it. Deal with it," Baron growled. Peeves lifted his arms and darted through the wall. Ron didn't know who _Myrtle_ was, but he could assume that she was probably another ghost. It was then the Baron stared where Ron was staring. He let out a small snort.

"Just because a ghost can become invisble, doesn't mean they do so often. But I doubt you're even dead. Back to your room. Before I change my mind."

Ron quickly and still as quietly as he could darted towards the owlery.

Could ghosts sense things beneath the invisibility cloak? Or could they hear him? Why did the Bloody Baron, ghost of Slytherin just tell him to go? All these questions echoed about in his head as he entered the owlery. He pulled the cloak off his head, no doubt scaring a few owls. He let it open, revealing his front to them, his back and shoulders still invisible.

One owl was not afraid. Harry's own snowy owl Hedwig, which Ron approached. She seemed to glare at Ron until he handed her a dead mouse, a spoil from Norbert, he was going to give to Harry to give to her. She accepted the treat and allowed Ron to tie the leter to her leg.

"Please be quick," Ron said as she took off. He watched her disappear into the night, her white body being enveloped into the darkness of the night. With a soft sigh, he lifted the hood back over his head, and pulled the front of the cloak closed.

He was thankful the journey back to the common room held no surprises of dead spirits or Filch and his cat. In fact, he returned to the room where Neville and Harry were dosing. He shook them both awake, long enough to give Harry back his cloak and for the four of them to go to bed.

* * *

It was early morning, Charlie was about to leave to check on the nests of some expectant mothers when there was a tapping on his window. He turned his head in confusion. A snowy owl was sitting outside his window with a letter attached to its' leg looking a slight bit irritated. Curiously, he opened the window allowing the bird inside. The air was bitey but Charlie didn't complain. He didn't get a ton of mail. At least, not a lot from anyone besides his parents. He wondered who would send him a letter.

Carefully, he removed the letter from the bird's leg and offered it some water. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a small knife. He used it to cut the letter open. He pulled the parchment out and began to read.

 _Hello Charlie._

 _It's Ron-_

Charlie paused. A warm sensation filled his chest. It was a letter from _Ron_. He hadn't been sending anyone letters. Not Bill, not their mum and dad, not Ginny, but he had one. He had sent _him_ a letter. He couldn't help the slightly smug feeling he felt. He continued reading with great vigor.

 _It's Ron, your brother. Wait do you even know any other Ron's? Well even if you do, it's me. But I think you already now knew that._

 _Schools going fine. Finals are coming up and stuff. Mione's making us study. Harry, Neville and I are baffled by all we're studying. Do we really need to know all this stuff?_

 _Wait, no that's not why I'm sending this. Charlie, we kind of have a situation at school and Neville and Harry reminded me that you work with dragons so we thought that you might be able to help-_

Charlie didn't like the sound of that. Why did it sound like there was something potentially dangerous beyond what was exceptable? Like say... Hagrid somehow completing his lifelong goal of actually owning a dragon.

 _-you see, we're kind of helping Hagrid take care of a dragon-_

"Shit!" Charlie spat out. He began pacing the room, taking in a few deep breaths. A dragon. There was an illegal dragon at _Hogwarts_. Right where four of his five brothers were. He forced himself to continue reading the letter to get as much information as he could.

- _baby. We were with it when it hatched about a week ago, but it's growing pretty fast. Apparently, it's a Norwegian Ridgeback, just like the tooth you got me for_ Christmas.

Week old Norwegian Ridgeback. He had friends coming in a week who would be more than willing to be discreet. And the size would be just right for three riders. He'd have to send a letter tonight to them. But they could do it.

Better sooner than later, even at a young age, Norwegian Ridgeback's had highly venomous bites. And he was going to do what he could so no one got bitten. Speaking of which...

He whipped out a bit of parchment and quill, along with an inkwell to respond to Ron.

* * *

"So Steve, traveling the country?" Clint asked seeing the "old man" get on a motorcycle with a bag of supplies and clothes, and a credit card, curtousy of Tony.

"I have wanted to see how the country has changed since I've been gone. I can't think of a better way."

"Well, whatever you're into," Clint shrugged. It was no skin off his nose. He didn't really know Steve all that well. He didn't feel much with Thor's coming and goings or Bruce's reclusive behavior. Even Tony, who he had annoyed and competed with regularly now, wasn't much of a concern, hiding away in his lab and insulting people. They were more like awkward roommates he had to live with until his living quarters had been finalized elsewhere.

"Bored?"

"Nat. Glad to see you back. How was Egypt?" he asked.

"Decent. Got the job done. Although, I did run into a familiar face," she said pulling out a sheet of paper with a picture on it. It was part of the surveilance feed from her mission. In the lower corner, there was not a target, but a familiar face nonetheless.

"Isn't that Bill? Ron's oldest _brother?_ " Clint questioned.

"It seems that he works in Egypt."

"Good to know."

"I heard you were talking about Ron learning archery."

"Yep. He's been asking for years, and since I can't see him all the time, I might as well teach him once he gets back," Clint explained with a smirk.

"As long as he wants to," Natasha commented.

 **So. It's a chapter. And I am sorry for the first post of the last one you guys. I should have known. But I did not. Anywho...**

 **I figured why not? I had other plans for this chapter but reading over the plan, it seemed far too rushed and I didn't want to make it bad by rushing it. So, this chapter instead. Like always, let me know what you think of the chapter.**


	22. Bite out of life

"Have you heard anything from Charlie yet?" Harry asked the next night, just after his turn to care for the dragon.

"Yeah, Ron sighed. He held a small letter from Charlie, but didn't read it aloud.

"He says that he has some friends who can pick it up in a week. I sent a letter back. We'll need to get Norbert to the astronomy tower."

"That's great," Harry smiled. Ron nodded, his head. But his expression remained fairly blank.

"Is... Everything alright Ron?"

"Oh, eh. It's all fine Harry. It's all good. Let's get to bed. Before Mione or Percy finds us down here talking."

"Alright."

* * *

As the end of the week approached, Ron couldn't help but read the letter Charlie sent again and again. He had even started to carry the letter in one of his books so he wouldn't lose it. He didn't know why he was doing it. Granted, he read his father's letters again and again, along with the one from his Aunt Tasha when they were on seperate missions, but he never carried them around. Instead, they stayed in the box Bill had gotten for him.

He never read it in front of his friends though. Something about the letter, it felt personal. It shouldn't, his dad's were way more personal but... there was something different about this letter. Something he just couldn't describe.

' _Dear Ron,_

 _You have no idea how excited I was to get a letter from you. Granted, I was really_ not _expecting a letter about a dragon. At least it isn't about an exploding toilets like with the twins... Any who, It's really not too big of an issue. I have some friends who will be flying by in about a week, they can take the dragon from the astronomy tower about midnight._

 _Just don't tell Percy. Don't get me wrong, I do love Percy, he's just a bit of a stickler. Heaven forbid that he react as poorly to you with a dragon as he did when I went out to the forbidden forest to see if I could meet some centaurs. I have never seen someone turn puse that fast. Well, no, mum has quite a temper so... maybe mum turned red faster._

 _No, wait, getting off topic. The dragon._

 _Yes, the dragon will be safe here in Romania. Tell Hagrid I said hi will you?_

 _Love,_

 _Charlie.'_

He didn't know what it was. He had many questions. Such as, what was with the exploding toilet? Did Percy really have a temper? He had never really seen him get mad. Yes, he did yell and take points at times but he was usually very calm and collected. Charlie went into the forbidden forest? There were centaurs in the forbidden forest? _Centaurs_ existed?

Why was he even surprised?

"Ron? Focus," Strange commented pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"It's alright to think. Not enough people in the world do so as it is. But one mustn't get lost in their own thoughts so they ignore the world around themselves."

"Yeah. Okay."

Ron picked up another jar, the largest in the room and felt the words slip from his lips with ease, "Tendicula Parma."

The jar glowed briefly and Ron could feel the magic seal it.

"Well done Ron."

Ron looked at Doctor Strange in confusion.

"Thanks, but for what?"

"You have performed the spell on all I have placed before you."

"Everything?" Ron questioned. He looked around the room. He knew he did the spell a lot, but had he done everything?

With a casual wave from Strange's hands, the room seemed to light up, no the _jars_ lit up.

"What is that?"

"Your magic. I simply used my magic to assist in making it visible."

If Ron had to describe it, it looked like how he imagined fairy lights when his dad told stories when he was a little boy. Or the Will-of-the-wisps from his Aunt Tasha's seldom heard stories.

"Now, we just have one last thing to cast the spell on," Strange said dropping his hands, seeming to take the light away when he did so.

"What?" Ron asked.

"The room itself."

"The room?"

"We have to contain _all_ the magic we perform. The jars are good for ingridients so they don't become contaminated but the room can contain all that you will learn. Why don't you give it a try?"

Ron gave a small grin. He began to lift his arms when he realized that he couldn't hold the room in his hands like the jar, like he was accustomed to. His eyes darted around. Swallowing, he walked to wall. Strange said nothing, but watched his apprentice as he traced his fingers along the wall. The grooves, the imperfect stones. He paused when he came to the door. Worn wood among cold stone. With a deep breath, he spoke with conviction, "Tendicula Parma."

It was different from the jars. What had been a short burst from doing the jars, had seemed to last longer as his magic didn't just come out in a quick flick, but rather, felt similar to performing the Windgardium Leviosa charm. A longer use, until the room was encased in magic. He took in a deep breath as the spell ended. He felt a warm hand clasp his shoulder.

"Well done Ron. Now why don't you enjoy the rest of your day?"

"But Doctor Strange-"

"Ronald, is there anything that you'd rather be doing with your friends?"

Ron paused. They still had to finalise the plan to get the dragon out. The dragon Strange knew nothing about.

"Okay. But you'll be teaching me something new next time?"

Strange only gave a knowing grin. Ron left the room with purpose in his stride. He had been so focused on finding Harry, Hermione and Neville who were probably in the common room, he didn't notice Fred and George seemingly plotting something with Percy of all people.

* * *

"Hagrid, Norbert looks _huge_."

"He's just a baby. Get me a bucket of rats would yah?"

"Sure," Ron sighed picking up the large container, his nose pinched at the smell. He couldn't wait for the dragon to go. He didn't think he could take many more nights of this.

How Charlie dealt with it was beyond him. His heart ached slightly. Why was it doing that?

He shook his head and placed the bucket at Norbert's feet. The 'baby' dragon began gorging itself on the vermin, much to Ron's disgust.

"Ain't he adorable?" Hagrid gushed. Ron looked back at the creature. He couldn't deny that there was a certain level of magesty from the scaly beast. But to go as far as calling it adorable was a bit of a stretch. even Fang seemed to think so, given how he sat as far from the dragon as he could like a _smart_ dog would. Lucky dog.

"He's something alright," Ron muttered quietly. He grabbed another bucket of rats, ready to place it at Norbert's feet when Norbert stretched his wings. Ron jumped, not prepared for the sudden wing movement. Norbert reacted to Ron jumping, lashing out and biting his hand. Ron yelped in pain. Hot burning pain. He gasped and collapsed to the floor when the beast let go.

"Ron! What happened?"

"He bit me! He spread his wings and spooked me. I dropped the bucket and-"

"You spooked him!"

"Excuse me? He's a dragon!"

"He's a baby."

Ron couldn't believe this man. He knew there were individuals who thought their pet could so no wrong but this was rediculous.

"Why don't you head back to your dormitory. I don't think Norbert's going to want you to feed him," Hagrid said. Ron didn't argue. He didn't want to be in the hot hut with the beast that bit him.

"Sure thing."

For some reason, the treck back to the castle seemed to take far longer than normal. He was tired and he had been grumbling about the bite from the dragon. Each footfall felt heavy and loud as he walked in the darkness of the castle. He was glad when he made it back into the room where Harry, Hermione and Neville had been waiting for him.

"Ron, you're back early-"

"It bit me. That thing bit me!"

"It bit you?"

Ron showed his slightly bleeding hand.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"I think so. I've just been bit. But you should have heard Hagrid. He says I spoked it! He's going on like it was _my_ fault."

"Should you go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"I think I can sleep it off Mione. It's just a bite. I washed it and everything."

"If you say so. Night Hermione," Neville said. Harry and Ron quickly said their good nights and all went to bed.

Ron found out in the morning, that he probably should have gone to see Madam Pomfrey.

He felt sick. His body felt like it was burning, he felt stiff and his hand was feeling ungodly pain. It was horridly green and swollen.

"Thanks Neville," Ron groggily stumbled as Neville helped him to the Medical Wing.

"No problem Ron. We're almost there."

It felt like an eternity before he and Neville entered.

"What are you boys doing here?" Madam Pomfrey questioned quickly. Neville looked around and realized that there was not one bed occupied. So, they were the only ones.

"Um, Ron's sick."

"Is he?" she asked. She looked at the sickly boy. She tutted and gestured to a bed.

"Let's get him to a bed."

Ron felt himself being guided to a bed, which he promptly collapsed.

"And what, exactly happened to your hand?" Pomfrey questioned. Ron paled. And it wasn't because of how he felt. He couldn't tell her about Norbert. Despite Hagrid's reaction, he knew that he'd get in a ton of trouble. Not to mention, they already had a plan.

"Uh, a dog."

"A dog?" she asked in a tone that told him that she did not believe him.

"I'll, uh, just get going." Neville said walking out the door.

"Yeah..." Ron answered, "I guess it got infected?"

She hummed but grabbed a few items from her cabinet. She muttered something about young ones and not wanting to know.

"You say it was a dog?"

"Yes. It was a dog."

"Not a wolf?"

"There are wolves here?"

"In the forest, there are a fair few wolves."

Ron thought back to Norbert.

"Definetly not a wolf."

* * *

"I just need to borrow a book."

"Be quick about it," Pomfrey commented. Ron opened a tired and bleary eye and groaned seeing a smug looking Draco Malfoy. He looked like he was holding back a laugh.

"Feeling well Weasel?" he asked in a falsely sweet but obviously mocking tone.

Ron stuck a tongue out at Draco childishly.

"Eh hem," Pomfrey coughed.

"Right," Draco muttered, "I need to borrow a book."

He grabbed the one on top of Ron's school stuff and walked out. In Ron's tired and medicated state, he didn't quite register what had happened and fell back asleep, letting the potions take effect on his body.

 **Listening to songs from TV shows. That was my muse for this chapter. Like Ember McLain's Remember. With that in mind, what songs do you guys recommend for getting your muse going?**

 **Also, I can not wait for what I have planned coming soon to the story. I am excited. Which is wierd... In a good way.**

 **Well, all that in mind, until next time, read and write on.**


	23. Happy unbirthday

Ron had been stuck in bed all day, Madam Pomfrey making him take nasty potions including the nutrient potion. Perhaps it was because he was feeling ill, but it didn't taste as bad as he last recalled.

Madam Pomfrey had been nice enough to let his friends in once the swelling had gone down. He had to tell them about the revelation.

"Malfoy took my book."

"Okay," Neville said slowly not quite understanding why Ron would bring it up while he was in the Hospital Wing.

"Neville. You don't get it. He has my book. The one with _Charlie's letter._ "

"Oh."

"Oh."

"Oh!"

"Yeah. Oh. He's probably already found and read the letter," Ron grumbled.

"Well, can we send Charlie a letter?" Neville asked.

"They're coming tonight."

"We're going to have to sneak him tonight."

"You think we can all fit under the invisibility cloak?" Hermione asked.

"Us all and a dragon?" Harry questioned.

"All of us, _except_ Ron. Well, add the dragon."

"What? I could so hel-" he began as he tried to sit up. A wave of vertigo made him fall back onto the bed.

"You can what Ronald?" Hermione jabbed.

"I can stay here and rest," he grumbled crossing his arms.

It was that moment that Madam Pomfrey had told them to let him rest. The three left, all wishing he got better soon. He wished that their mission would go over well.

He didn't know how long he had been out, but he knew he had been woken by a loud thud. He blinked in confusion, trying to adjust his eyes to the low light of the night hours. The only light came from the window in the room, letting in soft moonlight, obscured slightly by the curtains.

"S-S-Severus p-please. I don't know w-what you're-"

"Do not test me Quirrel. You'll find my patience to be rather... Cut short."

Ron held his breath. While the voices were not in the room, they were close. Professors Snape and Quirrel it sounded like.

"I-I don't know w-what y-you m-m-mean-"

"You know perfectly well," Snape hissed, "You haven't made this easy."

Ron froze. What was going on? Why was Professor Snape threatening Professor Quierel?

"Gentlemen," a new voice interrupted. Ron noted there was a light now in the hall, a silhouette that looked much like Madam Pomfrey was cascaded on the floor, "I have a sick student. Off with you both! Lest I call Professor Dumbledore."

Ron lay still and closed his eyes as he heard footfalls. He tried to control his breathing to look like he was still asleep. He could tell the light was drawing closer. Madam Pomfrey hummed but didn't do anything else.

"Nox," she said softly. The light seemed to disappear and he heard her walk away. When he could no longer hear her walking, he opened his eyes into the dark room. He felt tired, but he was curious. What was going on out there?

As much as he wanted to ponder it, his body seemed to have other plans, drawing him back into the void of sleep.

* * *

"Boys-"

"C'mon Madam Pomfrey, he'll love it!"

"Can't we just have this? We haven't been able to do this since he was one."

"Madam Pomfrey. I'll make sure they don't cause any trouble, we just... We want to do this for him."

"Especially when he hears about what his friends got up to last night..."

"Sh! You'll wake him!"

"Right. Help me with the trays."

* * *

Ron woke up bleary eyed but well rested. He rubbed his eyes and proceeded to sit up, glad he didn't feel sick or in pain. With a yawn he began to really focus his vision, to see if he could ask Madam Pomfrey if he could leave. Instead, what he saw made him jump. Two twins and a prefect were walking into the Hospital Wing. And their arms were full of... Stuff. Colorfully wrapped stuff.

"What in the -"

That was when he noticed the balloons... And the cards.

"Oh look!"

"Awake are you?"

Ron didn't know why, but as he had recently woken up, he could have swore that he had said something Yoda would say.

"Erm, yes?"

"Oh! Good! How are you feeling?" Percy asked. He and his longer legs made it across the room after than either of the twins, and for some reason, he placed a hand on Ron's forehead, like his dad would do sometimes when he felt feverish.

"I'm fine now."

Percy pulled his hand back quickly.

"No fever," he muttered softly. Fred and George walked up with matching grins.

"Morning Ronnie-"

"Hope you're hungry-"

"Cause we've got a _very_ special breakfast here," they both said, revealing a plate full of eggs, sausage, fried potatoes and toast. Quite a bit bigger than his usual breakfast and with far more variety.

"Wow. Uh what's the occasion? I usually only eat like this on my birthday."

"Think he forgot Gred?"

"School gets them everytime."

"Poor soul."

"Do you not know what today is?"

Ron blinked in confusion. His first day without Norbert? Oh, he'd have to ask them how that went over later...

"Should we give him a hint Forge?"

Yesterday had been the last day of Febuary...

"I don't know... March first?"

"And that means?" Fred, at least he thought it was Fred, asked excitedly. Ron just gave them all a confused look. Percy's face seemed to grow stony as the twins kept trying to have him apparently remember something important about this date.

"Ron? Today is the first of March. Twelve years ago, today, our mum gave birth... To you," he explained. Ron stared at Percy as though he had grown another head. It finally did click in his head though.

"Oh. Guess I didn't think about it too much. I always celebrated on my Aunt Tasha's birthday."

"And when's that?" George, yeah he was pretty sure it was George, questioned. He sounded a bit cross. Like he was upset.

"April second. No one knew when I was born so... They kind of guessed."

There was a moment of silence when Fred decided it was enough.

"Doesn't matter. Today is still your birthday, and we are not letting this breakfast go to waste!" Fred commented, placing a tray of food in front of him in bed, "We never let it go waste. Even when Bill wasn't feeling good."

Ron was quiet for a moment. The food looked good. But staring at it only reminded him that despite being perfectly happy with his dad, there was so much that he was curious about now that he had met his family. And, to be honest, if he was going to have to _live_ with them, then shouldn't he know their birthdays?

"So... when are your guys birthdays?"

Fred and George paused, not quite prepared for the question. Percy just took in and answered in a matter of fact tone.

"Bill was born the 29th of November. Charlie was born the 12th of December. I was born the 22nd of August. Fred and George were born on the first of April-"

"April Fools Day? You know, that makes a lot of sense," Ron commented. Also incredibly close to his Aunt Tasha's birthday that he had shared with her for years. Percy continued on while Fred and George chuckled at Ron's comment.

"And Ginny was born the 11th of August."

"Oh, alright," Ron commented.

"Enough talking. Eat your breakfast. You have presents."

"Do I really have too?" Ron stared at the gifts, as if they were a figment of a dream. It really did not feel like his birthday without someone to share cake with.

"Yes!"

"We normally do small gifts for birthdays, y'know. Given there are _seven_ of us kids."

"But this is the first birthday we've been able to... Well, it's a special birthday so we wanted to do it justice."

"You've got a lot to open."

"But first, eat your breakfast," Percy interrupted, handing Ron a fork, "We don't want you fainting again."

"Too right we don't!"

"Good thinking Perce."

* * *

It seemed to take forever for Ron to sneak away from his brothers. They had been adament about spending time with the birthday boy on their day out of classes. If it hadn't been for a spectacular prank from Peeves distracting them, he wasn't sure he would have been able to get away. As it was, he needed to know what happened with the dragon. There were people whispering in the halls but he paid them no mind. He had a mission.

It took maybe an hour or so to find them, isolated from the rest of the students. They didn't look too happy. Hermione's head had been lowered and Neville and Harry were on either side.

"Hey guys. What's up?" he asked. All three of them looked at him. All of them a little surprised.

"You're out of the Hospital Wing. How's your arm?" Hermione asked quickly. Ron showed his bandaged arm.

"A lot better. Madam Pomfrey said I had to go back though if it started swelling again. She said it shouldn't be a problem though. But you guys have _got_ to tell me how last night went," he said excitedly sitting down next to Harry.

"It was horrible."

"Neville. Really? Don't tell me we still have _Norbert_."

"Well no. He's gone. Went off without a hitch on that part," Harry began, "It was coming _back_ that was the issue."

"Don't tell me you guys got caught. Wasn't that the point of the invisibility cloak?"

"It was. We just, forgot it on top of the tower."

Ron groaned. That couldn't be good.

"We had gotten to the base of the tower when we heard someone coming," Harry began, "We realized we didn't have the cloak, so we ran."

"We found a door, and Hermione unlocked it so we could hide."

"Okay," Ron interjected, following along.

"We all got inside," Hermione took over. When we shut the door, we noticed we weren't alone."

"Peeves?"

"Peeves would've been better," Neville admitted.

"There was a three headed dog."

"A dog."

"It was huge!" Hermione whisper-yelled, "It could've easily eatten all three of us."

"We figured, it was better to be caught than be dead."

"Smart," Ron commented, "So... what happened next?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"McGonnagal happened. I have never seen her so mad," Hermione squeaked. She sounded close to tears.

"She was real mad. Took away fifty points."

"Fifty points?" Ron gasped. He had never heard of a professor taking away more than twenty points at any given time.

"Each," Harry added. A heavy silence overtook the group.

"Hundred fifty. That's a lot of points," Ron commented not really knowing what else to say.

"We also have dentention. We don't know what it is, but we're serving it with Malfoy."

"Malfoy?"

"He tried to catch us with Norbert."

Ron nodded his head. That could have been disasterous had they been seen with the dragon. They could have been _expelled._ And call him selfish, but he did not want his friends to all leave Hogwarts and leave him behind.

"So... time in a classroom with McGonagal?"

"We don't know. We're going to get a note later about it."

 **Well. I feel like I'm in trouble. Fifty points from Sushine! That means I have now... eh probably negative 528 or something like that. On a seperate note... Giant three headed dog, teachers fighting and surprise birthday. Seems like a busy day- er... twenty four hour period of time.**

 **Chaos seems to be abound the four. Next chapter should be fun (I hope).**

 **And finally, to those of you who have a significant other and celebrate Valentines Day, I hope you have fun. I will be celebrating Singles Awareness Day for the 21st consecutive year in a row. Yay! (I think?)**


	24. Anger within

It felt odd. Ron being with his friends afree they got rid of Norbert. It wasn't that he wasn't glad to be back with his friends and all, but he _hated_ the stares. And the _comments._ He was getting sick and tired of people talking about Harry, Hermione and Neville like they were they plague. No one was on Draco's case and he lost fifty points for Slytherin.

Even his brothers had been trying to get him away from his friends. It was getting on his nerves. He had been close to snapping at a few people had it not been for his friend's standing in the way of him snapping at anyone. It was especially difficult around the few Slytherins who had _thanked_ his friends. He swore he was going to hit one of them. Hit them hard.

"Don't be mad Ron. It's not your fault," Neville commented as Hermione and Harry did their best to ignore the people talking about them.

"Arent you guys _bothered_ by it?"

If anything Ron didn't understand, was this mocking. Taunts were something done by close friends on the Helicarrier or within closed confines with only the closest and trusted confidants. Not this... Mockery in front of them. He had seen the basic idea on television he had seen, but he had thought it had been just for story and television sake.

But the looks on his friends proved otherwise.

Gossiping felt real enough. But this _mockery_ just made him angry. Even his brothers were not making it easy.

He had arrived at Quiditch practice where everyone referred to Harry as _the seeker_. Harry had been quiet about it. Almost seeming to accept it. But Ron had given his own comments, only referring to Harry by name, the others by position.

"C'mon everyone. Let's go again. Back in position," Wood called out, "Why don't you take a few laps Ron? Build up your control."

Ron grumbled but didn't argue. He got on the broom and did laps, at what appeared to be a snail's pace in comparison to everyone else.

Man, just one time trying to help a friend and you're stuck with individuals that just drive you batty.

"Just let _the seeker_ practice."

"Don't distract _the seeker._ "

"Focus on your own plays guys. _The seeker_ can work on his own."

"Oy! Watch where you're smacking the bludger."

"Why? _The seeker_ can dodge it just fine."

Ron was angry. He could feel the rage bubbling up inside. His own _brothers_ were getting into a banter. He abruptly stopped the broom he was riding on. He looked at Harry with slight sadness and irritation. Not with him. But with everyone else.

He dropped to the ground ignoring the stares. He could handle them. He could take them from Harry for a moment.

"Ron? Where are you going?" Wood had questioned.

"Where am I going? I am leaving this field. That's what I'm doing."

Harry landed on the ground looking extremely concerned.

"You can't just leave-"

"I'm not on the team. And I don't have to stay here and listen to you all being..."

"Being what?"

"Being rude to Harry!"

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"Don't you think you all are?" Ron growled. His eyes were narrowed as the members of the Quiditch team landed. They all looked at him with confused expressions on their faces. Harry walked over to Ron, possibly in an attempt to calm him. Ron didn't acknowledge the attempt.

"You all _think_ you're better than him, and guess what? _You kind of are._ You are all old enough to do things and apparently _not_ get caught."

Fred (or was it George?) opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't even try to deny it," he said pointing at the twins, "Just how many points do you two lose in a year? I'm sure it's _much_ more than fifty."

Fred and George looked at one another, then at Ron.

"And none of you can give _him_ a break. _He's trying to do better._ And you're all being mean to him. And Neville and Hermione for that matter," Ron growled.

"Ron."

Harry didn't sound too happy, more like his Uncle Phil when he was just tired. Tired of all the cra- oh...

That made more sense.

"It's fine."

"No Harry it's not!"

With a deep but shaky breath, he turned and began stomping away, ignoring the calls of his name. He felt his legs move faster and for some reason his eyes felt like they were burning. As he entered the castle, he rubbed his eyes impatiently to feel only water. He felt irrationally anger at the realization of tears.

Why? He didn't have a reason to be sad. He was angry.

With a flushed face and anger boiling within, he made his way to the Gryfindor common room. He didn't bother to acknowledge people in the halls, not even Peeves who had taken to trying to make students trip over the knight's boots.

"Ickle boy's turning as red as his hair!" Peeves laugh rang in Ron's ear. He continued on faster, missing the slightly confused expression on Peeve's face. He didn't miss when the Poltergiest appeared in front of him with a cocky grin on his face.

"Now now Ickle Firstie," he began as he leaned in close to Ron's side. He easily kept pace with the angry first year until his anger distracted him from a stray boot, making him face plant on the cold stone ground. He grumbled and pushed himself off the ground only to come face to face with the pale faced smirking specter. He yelped and jumped back that seemed to make Peeves enter an uncontrollable laughing fit.

"Jerk," Ron muttered under his breath and continued down the hall. Peeves cackle though lessened his anger a bit even as his face hurt.

The day moved on as simple as it was, only with more anger than normal and his friends recieving a piece of paper altering them to their detention.

"Nighttime detention."

"You don't have to stay up Ron," Hermione commented.

"Well, I'm going to. I've got nothing else to do."

"You could sleep," Harry remarked, a small bit of sass seeping through. Ron gave his own small smirk.

"Who could sleep when a guy's three best friends are out doing who knows what in the middle of the night?"

Neville chuckled and Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry gave a relieved smile as Ron scooped Scabbers into his arms. The rat squeaked once but did nothing else.

"Well, have fun with Scabbers."

With that, the three left, leaving Ron in the dorm room alone with Scabbers. Ron looked down at the lazy rat with a missing toe.

"Well Scabbers, looks like it's just you and me tonight. What do you want to do?"

The rat didn't do anything. It just lay in his arms like a lump. Ron put Scabbers in his hands and lifted him up under the front paws to look the little beast in the eye.

"I wonder if you like music."

The rat turned its' head to the right, to look at the plush cushions. Ron decided to sit as he had nothing better to do. What harm could it be to humor himself by following the head turn of a rat?

He stroked the back of Scabbers as he listened to the crackling of the low lit fire in the common room. The smell of burning wood and the heat proved to be relaxing. He began to hum in the quiet of the room for a minute or two, eventually bringing words to the tune.

" _Gonna cruise out of this city  
Head down to the sea  
Gonna shout out at the ocean  
Hey it's me  
And I feel like a number  
Feel like a number  
Feel like a stranger  
A stranger in this land  
I feel like a number  
I'm not a number  
I'm not a number  
Dammit I'm a man  
I said I'm a man"_

The rat squeaked at Ron. Ron chuckled at the rat.

"You like Bob Seger? My dad loves it. He plays it after long missions. He... He'd play an old album. Some songs about traveling, or about society."

Ron thought back to living on the Helicarrier. Listening to his dad's albums. Listening to his Aunt Tasha's seldom heard lullabies. Listening to the back and forth banter of his Auntuncle FitzSimmons before deciding on something comedic. His Uncle Phil listening to classic smooth jazz when the agents weren't bothering him and he wasn't working on Lola. He didn't listen to a lot of music with his Uncle Nick, he mainly heard him talking about everything and nothing... Or yelling at agents.

"I miss the music. Everyone's talking. Everyone's walking. But it's not the same Scabbers."

The rat did nothing as it lay in his hands like a lump.

"I miss America. I miss my home," he said softly, "I think you'll like it there Scabbers. When we go back in the summer."

"The summer is nice. But, I do miss winter. High above the clouds, ice crystals and frost forming on the windows if it became too much for their heat to handle. My family's really nice. I don't mean the Weasley's because well... I don't really know them. I mean, sure I go to school with Percy and Fred and George but I don't think it's the same as knowing them as a family. What do you think Scabbers?"

The rat began to nibble his sleeves leading Ron to sigh.

"Look at me. Talking to a rat like you can understand what I'm saying and going through. Maybe I do need some," Ron yawned, "sleep."

His eyelids were already heavy and he didn't really fight as he began to doze off. A few minutes couldn't hurt.

 **Song mentioned is Bob Seger's Feel like a number.**

 **And yeah, just like in the books, Ron does not go into the forest. So he stays in the common room with his pet Scabbers...**

 **Why do I have a feeling there are going to be quite a few comments asking me to either expose or kill him outright? Not Ron of course, but the rat.**

 **Ah well, only time will tell. So, I hope that everyone is having a good day. We've had some crazy in our lives. Such as my sister's fiancé's cousin was killed by her husband and then kidnapped a cousin (I don't know the age) and their child. He was apprehended today, March fourteenth but that is just part of the crazy. I do apologize for not updating sooner.**

 **Now, on a sillier note, to celebrate nation Pi day, let me know what your favorite flavor of pie is guys.**


	25. What did happen?

He didn't know when he fell asleep, he just knew that he jumped when he heard the door of the common room open. In walked dirty and tired Hermione, Neville and Harry. Ron yawned but sat up, Scabbers squeaking as Ron picked him up and placed the lazy vermin on his shoulder.

"Hey guys. How'd it go?" Ron asked.

Harry looked as though he was going to answer when a large yawn slipped past his lips. Ron gave a sympathetic grin. He had fallen asleep, no doubt they were all exhausted.

"Maybe you guys can tell me in the morning. Why don't we head to bed?"

It was a testament to their tiredness when no one protested. Even Hermione was dragging her feet to her room. At least, Ron assumed so. Couldn't exactly see with the gender magic barrier in the dorm. Seriously though, why did the girls have one and the boys didn't?

He didn't know. And he wasn't going to waste sleep thinking about it. He slipped into bed after making sure Harry and Neville were good. He placed Scabbers on the pillow he moved aside for the rat on a nearby nightstand.

The next morning was better. Ron helped wake Neville and Harry while Hermione had gotten herself up. Well, she had always been an early riser so, even as tired as she was, Ron wasn't all that surprised.

On their way down to breakfast, Ron asked again what had happened during their detention.

"Well, Filch took us to our detention. He led us to Hagrid's hut," Hermione explained with quick and precise bullet point like sentences. Impersonal, but did the job.

"Hagrid took us into the forbidden forest," Neville said with a hint of awe and fear in his voice. Ron nearly tripped over his own two feet at that.

"He did _what_? Isn't that place, oh I don't know... _forbidden_?" he questioned, already knowing the answer was going to be one he wouldn't like.

"Yeah. He said it was our punishment for being out," Harry admited with a slight bit of fear in his voice.

"Okay. So you went out to the super forbidden forest that would land you in detention, for your detention. What happened in there?"

"We went exploring."

"Really? Exploring? Sounds _delightful._ "

"Hagrid had found unicorn blood. We were to help him out to find the creature, and if it couldn't be saved, put it out of it's misery."

"He wanted you guys to kill it?" Ron squeaked, rather horrified. He knew that there were children in the states who were his age who hunted things like deer, but this was a unicorn. Weren't they considered special or something?

"No. Oh god no. Hagrid was going to..."

"Okay, I get it. So you guys went searching for a unicorn. Did you guys find it?"

"Oh, it was found," Neville said with a slight quiver to his voice. No one had the urge to continue but Ron just had to know.

"So tell me about it."

"Well, we all broke off into groups. Harry, Hagird and I went off in one group, Fang, Neville and Malfoy went off in another. We were told to use a flare spell if we ran into anything."

"Like the unicorn?"

"Or worse."

"Okay, so you were in different groups in a dark and possibly rightly forbidden piece of land. What happened next?"

"Malfoy happened. He had been jumpy entering the forest. Mind you, I was scared too, it was spooky in there. Lots of shadows, lots of wind... Lots of spiderwebs. I don't know why, but he thought it would be bloody funny to scare me. I jumped and set the flares into the sky. It didn't take long for Hagrid, Harry and Hermione to show up."

"Hagrid was mad. He took Neville and Harry went around with Malfoy."

"You went with him?" Ron was quite surprised. Malfoy did always hold an air of animosity. A tension of sorts. He didn't think Harry would interact with him him willingly. Actually, it was doubtful it was willingly.

"I didn't have a choice."

"It was pretty calm with Hermione and I, until Malfoy ran into us."

"He ran into you?"

"Yes," Hermione began, adding her own bit to what sounded like a convaluted story, "He ran up, looking right spooked. He kept looking over his shoulders, almost as if he had run into a werewolf or something."

"To be fair, there was an odd wind blowing through. It was a bit warmer than expected," Neville added in rather dipolmatically.

"He was scared of something."

"He was scared of Voldemort."

Neville jumped, fear spread rapidly on his face.

"Harry!" he hissed out, "You can't just say- say that!"

"Why not? And what's the big deal about this Voldemort fellow. No one really talks about him," Ron commented.

"Ronald!" Hermione squeaked, "Voldemort was a big piece in your trial."

"Would you guys _please_ stop saying that name?" Neville pleaded.

"Sorry," Ron apologized to make Neville feel better, "Anyway Harry, go on."

"Malfoy and I ran into the injured unicorn. It was dead when we arrived, and something shrouded in black was drinking its' blood," Harry began with his nerves catching in his voice, "My scar was burning when it raised its' head. Malfoy ran and I fell to the ground. It came towards me and I-I felt like I couldn't move. Then, from out of nowhere, a centaur appeared and chased it off. He was very nice. His name was Firenze. He got me out of there and back to everyone."

"What does Volde- I mean, what does _he_ have to do with it?"

"Firenze gave me a warning. I think... I think he's not entirely gone. And there is something in the castle he's after."

"What would he be after?" Ron questioned. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, I think it's in the third floor corridor."

"That's what Professor Quirrel and Snape were talking about," Ron blurted out.

"What?"

The four paused in the hall. Ron fidgeted for a bit and looked around the halls. When he saw no one, he began to explain.

"When I was in the hospital wing, I heard Professor Snape threatening Professor Quirrel. It makes sense. Professor Snape can be mean, but I haven't seen it towards another professor like that."

"What did he say exactly?" Hermione prodded.

"Not much. I was tired and Madam Pomfrey interrupted them and sent them off. What I do know, is that Snape was threatening Quirrel."

* * *

The four went on with their day thinking of the insanity of the past few days. The dragon, the forest, the fear that one of their teachers (most likely Snape) was working for a presumed dead dark lord and Ron's attempt to ignore the fact that the twins and Percy had made him celebrate his actual birthday with them. Ron didn't know exactly what to do, so he sent his dad a few vague letters, asking for advice. He loved his dad and all, he was cautious of what might happen if he let on what was going on.

The American government was not known for their subtly, and Ron didn't want to risk his dad's guardianship over this.

He and his friends spent their days on edge, now periodically making their way to the restricted third floor corridor to listen for Fluffy. He growled as always making everyone feel better that whatever was being protected was secured by Hagrid's large beast.

"Wait a second," Ron said aloud in the library where he and his friends were studying.

"What Ron?" Hermione asked sounding rather irritated.

"Fluffy is Hagrid's dog. Wouldn't Hagrid know what's being protected?"

* * *

"What the hell are you doing Hawkass?" Tony asked walking into what appeared to be a party room. Wrapping paper and tissue paper was strewn around everywhere and there was a hawk, cleaning their feathers as Clint wrote something down.

"Oh, hey Tony."

"Don't hey Tony me. What is this stuff? And why wasn't I invited?"

"Oh this? Ron sent me a letter about his birthday. Apparently, his birthday is is March First."

"It's halfway through March."

"I know. He didn't know until his brothers surprised him. But, I'm still going to celebrate it April second til he complains."

"And you got him three boxes-"

"Nah. I got him one. And Natasha's supposed to bring by the others' gifts for him. These two," he said gesturing to the red and gold packages, "Are for Fred and George. April Fools Day babies."

 **Happy belated Fred and George's birthday! And Happy birthday Black Widow! And Happy Honorary Birthday Ron!**

 **And Ron has thought of something. So ideas! Story! Who wants the chaos?**


	26. A trip to the hut

Ron had groggily walked with the exhausted Hermione, Harry and Neville, all with hopes of getting answers from the Cerberus's owner.

Thankfully more people seemed focused on studying for upcoming exams rather than whatever a few first years were doing outside. The four first years quickly came upon Hagrid's hut, knocking on it when they arrived. Hagrid did not dissapointment as he opened the door rather quickly.

When the door opened, Ron quickly noted that the smell of chicken blood and smoke still hadn't left the hut since Norbert had been there.

"Well, hullo there Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ron," he said nodding his head to each of the young students.

"Hello Hagrid. Can we ask you a question?" Harry asked.

"I don't see why not."

"What's your dog guarding?"

"Who Fang? He ain't guarding nuffing," he said a tad bit defensive.

"No, um Hagrid, the one in the third floor corridor," Hermione explained. Hagrid's face seemed to pale slightly.

"Oh I um- Nuffing you all need to worry about."

"But Hagird-!" Harry tried to speak.

"I won' hear another word bout it. Wha's in there is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

Ron blinked in confusion, not knowing who this Nicholas guy was. Neville's eyes seemed to light up at the recognition of the name while Harry seemed just as confused. Hermione though seemed to be trying to piece together just who this person Hagrid mentioned was. Before Hermione could say anything though, Neville seemed to have something else on his mind.

"That's understandable Hagrid. I wouldn't want people snooping around in my things after I told them not too," he laid it on a little thick. Thankfully, Hermione seemed to have caught on along with Harry, not to say anything more until they were a little further from Hagrid. They wanted answers, not evasion.

"So erm... that dragon's egg, where did you get it?" Ron asked trying to diverge the subject. He had seen his dad do this with a few of the younger agents. Find something they were passionate about and have them talk about it. They tended to be a little more loose lipped afterward and were far more likely to say something they probably shouldn't have.

"Well... I won it."

"Won it?" Ron asked rather perplexed. How does one even win a dragon's egg?

"Yeah. Down at the pub. Game of cards. Fellow seemed grateful to be rid of the thing to be honest."

Neville seemed to have rolled his eyes as if to sarcastically wonder why someone would be trying to get rid of a dragon's egg.

"Wouldn't he be worried about you being able to care for a dragon?" Ron asked, rubbing his wrist were Norbert had bitten him. Despite the healing, he swore he could feel the burn of it's venom occasionally.

"Sure 'e was. But I reassured him in no time. If I could take care of Fluffy, then a dragon shouldn't be too bad."

"Fluffy?"

"His three headed dog," Hermione reminded Ron who had yet to see the large beast.

"Right," Harry said responding to Hagrid rather than Hermione and Ron.

"Was he interested in Fluffy?" Neville wondered out loud.

"Why sure he was. S'not everyday one gets to hear 'bout a Cerberus. But I tol' him Fluffy was real easy. Heck, jus a lil' music and he goes right to sleep."

The group looked at one another in surprise.

"Music soothing the savage beast," Ron muttered.

"I shouldn't've told yah tha'," Hagrid muttered in horror and quickly went back inside his hut, repeating that over and over again.

"So music," Ron stated dumbly. He looked over at the other three who had actually seen the giant three headed dog of Hagrid's.

"You think... Whatever Fluffy is guarding, whoever's after it..."

"Hagrid could've told them," Harry weakly stated. His skin looked a bit paler than normal. All four of them stopped walking and looked at one another, "Firenze's warning- You don't think it could be-?!"

"Don't! Harry we don't know," Neville said in a slightly panicky tone, "We-we shouldn't jump to conclusions."

"But it makes sense. Something hidden at Hogwarts, somewhere so secure, and someone happening to have a dragon egg which Hagrid was interested in?" Harry pointed out quickly.

"Something to do with Nicholas Flamel."

The three students raised by muggles all looked to Neville, the only one who was raised by a magical parent. Neville looked nervous but relented to share what he knew.

"It's common knowledge I guess. Flamel's famous for being over six hundred years old-"

"Six hundred?!" Ron gasped in shock. No one on earth should be able to live that long. Was he some kind of Asgardian?

"Well, yeah. He's famous for making the philosopher's stone-"

"Wait a moment. I've heard of those. They're rumored to turn metal into gold, and create the elixir of life."

"Elixir of life?"

"It keeps you from... dying," she ended off quietly as the implication hit her. It didn't take long for the others to pick up on it either.

"Isn't that what unicorn blood does?" Harry asked despite knowing the answer.

"And if it was Volde-sorry Neville, You-know-who," Ron corrected himself, "Then he's after eternal life."

He'd definetly have to send his dad a letter about this. If there was such a thing, it would be best that his family be prepared. Immortality. A crazy idea that seems now to be real.

"We don't even know if it's him!"

"We don't know it isn't!"

"Harry, Neville, calm down," Hermione demanded as she stepped between the slightly panicked boys. Ron was quiet.

"We know someone knows something they shouldn't... and they could be after this stone. But it's not like they could sneak it out could they? Something with that much power?"

Neville bit his lip.

"The stone is small. At least, that's what I've heard. And it's not really noticeable. But I bet it's well guarded."

"We should tell someone though. If someone is after it," Harry commented. He began walking with determination towards the school.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as she, Ron and Neville began to follow Harry.

"To talk to Professor Dumbledore. If anyone can do anything, I bet he ca-"

"Ron!"

"Oh crud," Ron muttered as he heard the growing familiar voices call out from behind him. Harry, Hermione and Neville all stopped to look back. Ron gave a slow turn to see Fred and George making their way up the hill back to the castle.

"Oh good, Harry's here too-"

"Wood just called for some extra practice. With the end of the school year coming up and all-"

"I kind of get the feeling he _really_ wants to win the cup this year."

"Call it a hunch."

"But it means we need to get to the pitch."

"So come along you wee firsties," Fred said grabbing Ron by the shoulders and began guiding him to the pitch. George acted similarly and grabbed Harry, somewhat frog marching them to the Quiditch Pitch.

"Oh, and Ron, you got a package today," Fred commented offhandedly as Harry tried to convince George he had to see Proffesor Dumbledore. George seemed to have been brushing it aside saying that Wood waited for no one and that whatever was going on could wait. That included any pranks ickle firsties got into. But Ron was not listening to the conversation behind him as Fred placed a package in his arms.

"Must've ended up with our owl," he said, "Considering your dad sent us a present too. How did he know we were born on April first?"

"I send letters," Ron stated vaguely. He wasn't really surprised his dad had sent gifts. Especially after last Christmas.

Ron felt Fred nudge him in his side and he rolled his eyes, while proceeding to open the package.

He snorted and pulled out a small round object with little rubber mouth and eyes. Ron gave it a squeeze, making the eyes and mouth pop out in an exagerated manner. It looked oddly enough, like a dragon. Perhaps he'd call the thing Norbert. He did wish that thing got something for biting him and making him stay in the medical wing.

"About time you all showed up," Wood called out as soon as he saw the twins approaching with the first years as well as Neville and Hermione following behind at the sheer abruptness of the "kidnapping".

"Sorry Wood. They were a bit distracted with trying to talk with someone."

"I'm sure it can wait. Everyone mount up!"

Ron slipped his dad's gift into his pocket as Fred handed him a broom. And despite Harry's need to talk to Dumbledore, he also got on his broom and took to the sky for practice. It couldn't hurt to go through practice.

It seemed to calm Neville down slightly as he watched the repetative and familiar motions of Quiditch plays while Hermione seemed to be working over the conclusion they had come to only moments ago.

Ron tried to put it off for the moment as he joined the other chasers for manuevers, knowing all to well that Harry would no doubt be trying to find Professor Dumbledore's office... If Wood ended practice before curfew...

 **Perhaps a tad bit rushed... but I've been busy and I really wanted to post before my birthday. I do apologize that school, being in a wedding, my sister/beta reader moving out, my work and life in general has been keeping me from being focused enough to post for this story. As you may (or may not) have noticed, I have been mainly writing one shots or shorts. That is about all my brain has been able to focus on recently. I thank you all for your patience as I attempt to redirect my attention on this wild ride of a story. Wish me luck.**


	27. We know what we'll do

Step one forward, step two back.

Lost in life, or back on track.

It was how Ron felt with how hard they were working to try and see Professor Dumbledore. There was always something getting in the way. From classes to teachers to the twisting turning staircases, his celebrated birthday he had done for years in America (rather thrilled to recieve what was a letter from his dad about possibly-maybe taking him out onto the archery ranges when he got back with an arm guard) and now most recently, his own brothers.

It was beginning to drive Harry up a wall. Not to mention the upcoming final exams for the year quickly approaching which meant summer which meant _home._

But that wasn't on Harry's mind at all. If anything, he didn't want to even think of summer. It was all Ron wanted really. But there was that ominous threat of this Philosopher's stone and the return of some evil maniac made the more serious side of Ron actively try and help his friend. Hermione did as well as Neville seemed to be facing an internal debate he was reluctant to share.

Every time he seemed ready to bring up whatever was on his mind, something odd would occur. Or at least something less mundane in a school specializing in magic for adolescents. Such as Peeves peeving off Percy with various pranks and throwing of school equipment. Or when the twins somehow made all the floors leading to the dungeons slck and slippery for proper sliding like penguins.

Ron wasn't quite sure how they did it but he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to how they did it. But unlike Hermione, he wouldn't ask them or be too bothered to look it up. Not when they had the stone to worry about.

Days seemed to blend together and fade into one another. Soon, they were focused on exams to continue onto the next year. Even Harry seemed distracted, not wanting to do poorly.

From dancing fruit in charms, to the transfiguration difficulties with Scabbers trying to become a little pillbox, and Professor Snape being far more effective of a forgetful spell than the Forgetfullness potion he had them brewing.

Only with the end of exams and into the cool day that Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville were able to take a deep and calming breath. Well as much as they could with the stone still niggling in the back of their minds.

"So long as Professor Dumbledore is here, the stone is safe. Not even... You-Know-Who would go after something Dumbledore's protecting," Neville encoraged making the group feel a bit better. It wasn't until Harry had complained that his scar had begun to burn that the group got especially concerned.

"Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested looking at their friend with clear worry evident.

"This has happened before," Harry muttered, "I think it's a warning. Like danger's coming."

"Like Fred and George trying to tickle the apparent squid in the lake trouble or scary spooky forest thing trouble?" Ron asked without much thought as he saw his twin brothers down by the lake.

"Forest. It's just like the burning I had in the forest," Harry admitted. Neville's face paled and Hermione looked worried. Ron felt his face turn sort of stony as he didn't know how to react. He knew his dad had moments where he would feel in trouble or danger, only for there not to be anything to worry about at that time. He said it came with stressful jobs that he and his Aunt Tasha did regularly.

"You should tell a teacher," Hermione stated in a tone rather reminscent of Natasha. Ron blinked for a moment wondering where exactly the ferocity of the statement had come from.

"I think we need to ask a teacher for Professor Dumbledore," Harry said quickly walking over towards the school. Ron followed, curious as to where Harry was going exactly. Neville and Hermione followed though it was Neville who caught on first as to where they were going, or rather _whom_ they were going towards.

"Professor McGonnagal!" Harry called out to the grand transfiguration teacher.

"Mr. Potter," she greeted, her eyes focusing first on the one who had called her before greeting the rest who approached with him. "Mr. Longbottom. Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley-Barton." The Barton was added rather rushed, as if still an after thought rather than his actual name. Ron stiffened slightly, but the discomfort of his identity being forgotten was quickly moved past as Harry blurted out, "We need to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

" _See Professor Dumbledore? Why?"_ she asked appearing rather confused.

"It's sort of a secret," Harry said. Ron wondered if Harry actually had anything planned to say. Anyone could probably tell that saying you needed to meet up with someone of authority and it was a _secret_ was usually treated as a bad thing. Unless they had clearance or something but they were kids! It was plain as day that McGonagall agreed with Ron's train of thought as her nostrils flared.

" _Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago. He recieved an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."_ Her tone held no room for arguement or debate.

" _He's_ gone _?"_ Harry squeaked out. That certainly did not sound good.

" _Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time-"_

 _"But this is important!"_ Harry interrupted with desperation.

" _Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"_

 _"Look, it's about the Philosopher's Stone!"_

If Ron had known Harry was just going to blurt out what they had all been trying to keep quiet about knowing, he would have worked harder to learn that silencing curse he had seen Fred and George use in a prank once. As it was, McGonagall looked like she was attempting to swallow a lemon. The books in her arms fell to the ground and Hermione wasted no time in helping to pick them up, slightly shocked as well wih what Harry had said.

" _How do you know-"_

 _"Professor, I think- I know that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."_

"You mean _we_ have to," Ron interrupted. He was surprised though that Harry didn't mention Snape, knowing how he Neville and Hermione were all certain that Snape was the one after the stone.

Hermione handed McGonagall back her books as she looked at the first year lions.

" _Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow. I don't know how you found out about the stone, but rest assured no one can possibly steal it. It's too well protected."_

 _"But Professor-"_

 _"Potter, I know what I'm talking about._ Now, why don't you enjoy a bit more time outside. A little fresh air will do you some good," she said walking back into the castle, a slightly troubled look on her face. Harry stood still, seeming to think over the conversation he just had in front of his friends.

"It's tonight," he said. He quickly turned to face Ron, Hermione and Neville.

"Dumbledore's gone. And I'm sure the stone is going to be stolen tonight."

Ron couldn't really argue with that logic. Even Neville had said that Voldemort wouldn't try anything with him there. But since he was gone... it seemed like it was a likely ploy. Thinking back, didn't his dad do something similar in Budapest?

"We should go check on it-"

"Harry," Ron interrupted, "I think we'd just get in trouble. McGonagall seemed to leave pretty quickly when she heard about the stone."

"Maybe she's checking on it?" Neville asked. Ron thought it was possible. And Hermione definitely had the same line of thought. Harry looked slightly embarrassed.

"Maybe," he said.

He had seemed to drop it.

Until that night that is.

Hermione, Neville and Ron were all stopped as Harry talked to them about going to protect the stone. Leaving to go get it while everyone was asleep, under the cover of the invisibility cloak. It... actually wasn't a bad idea. Ron felt nervous, but also excited. Hermione seemed to hold a level of determination while Neville was silent. There was something off.

That night, Harry and Ron left their bed to find Neville's empty. They both assumed he was waiting for them down the stairs with Hermione.

They both grabbed their wands and Harry's invisibility cloak, wondering how they were going to fit four people under it as they descended the stairs. There Hermione was waiting with a slightly confused look on her face.

"Where's Neville?"

"I'm here."

They all saw Neville stand from a chair whose back was facing them.

"Hey Neville. You ready?"

"We... We're not going," he said with a slight quiver in his voice. Ron looked at him confused.

"Neville? Are you mad?" Harry asked.

Neville shook his head, "Harry. This is all crazy. we'll get in loads of trouble- you all could be hurt! You heard what they said about the corridor!" he proclaimed frantically. There was no doubt he was worried.

"Neville, we aren't going to force you to come. Look, why don't you just go back to bed-?" Ron began.

"I'm not going to let you guys hurt yourselves either. I'll... I'll fight you if I have to," he said raising his fists, as if he were going to knock them out.

"Neville, I'm sorry," Hermione said as she drew her wand, "Petrificus Totalus."

Neville's eyes widened as his arms were forced to his side and his legs were locked together. He appeared stiff as a board, and fell with just as much grace onto his back. Ron grimaced at the noise, feeling Neville's pain as he lay immobile. Quickly, he ran to the couches and propped up Neville's head to the best of his ability onto a softer pillow. Neville's eyes darted pleadingly to his friends.

"Sorry Neville," Hermione apologized.

"We'll be back to give the counter-curse," Ron reassured.

With that, the three concealed themselves underneath Harry's invisibility cloak, and left the common room, on their way to the Third flood corridor.

 **Hey guys... sorry for the hiatus and crazy chapter. I have had weddings and illness and school and work and life in general has pulled my muse from this story for a bit. I'm still working on it. But eh, what can you really do about it? Who's looking forward to the upcoming madness?**

 **I am! But then again, I'm the author. That's actually a rather terrifying thought. Anywho... I'm currently working on getting an official Beta. Granted I have my sister but she doesn't have an account name that I know. She has told me nothing so... yeah...**

 **Italisized talking to McGonagall was taken from the book.**

 **Anyways, I hope you are all planning on reviewing and letting me know what you are loving and/or hating, whatever the case may be.**


	28. Gravity Works

Ron didn't like leaving Neville behind. His stiff body was unnerving to say the least. And they were friends. He hoped they still would be after leaving him on the floor though. But the three continued on, like one of his dad's missions. Only, far less prepared and no arrows. Just magic.

Harry had led the two through the castle towards the third floor corridor passing Ms. Norris who they quickly passed, not wanting to get caught. They had climbed a set of stairs near the corridor when a familiar spectoral individual appeared before them. His well known cheshire grin glowing softly in the dark castle as he loosened rugs for people to trip on.

Despite the invisibility cloak, it seemed they were still noticed. Ron held his breath as Peeves looked through them. Hermione just about choked herself, her hand instinctively grabbing the the invisibility cloak with an iron grip.

"Now who could be here?" Peeves asked in a sickeningly sweet and mocking tone, "I can't see you. But I know you're there. A wee ghostie? A sad Ghoulie? Maybe a little student beastie?"

There was an odd sense of delight at the last notion. His black eyes seeming to recall something for a moment before refocusing on the hall they were hiding in.

"You know, maybe I should call Filch! Dangerous things shouldn't be wandering the halls at all hours after all. It would be the _right_ thing to do," he sang. It was then Harry had a brilliant idea.

"Peeves," he hissed out in a scratchy voice. It sounded similar to the Bloody Baron. Even Peeves thought so if his worried face was any indication, " _The Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."_

It was amazing how he seemed to fall just by the possibility of the presence of the Bloody Baron. Harry had wasted no time in making sure he would leave them alone for the night, the poltergiest for once complying and flying off without issue.

"Nice one Harry."

"I'm surprised that worked as well as it did," Hermione said with enthusiastic joy as she loosened her grip on the cloak.

"Thanks guys," he said in earnest.

Harry then led them to the door, Ron whipped his head around to see if anyone was approaching. Thankfully, with Peeves gone and Ms. Norris patrolling another part of the castle, it seemed rather... dead. Well, that was a bit more morbid than he liked.

"Alhomora," Hermione casted quietly into the door. The door unlocked easily making Ron the slightest bit concerned that Harry was more right than he thought he was. If Hermione could so easily unlock the door leading to a powerful relic that could possibly grant immortality, wasn't the world kind of in trouble?

He saw Harry reach into his pocket and pull out some crude wooden object.

"Harry? What is that?" Ron asked rather confused.

"A flute. The one Hagrid gave me for Christmas."

Honestly Ron had no recollection of such an item but for all he knew Harry could have recieved Disney World for his Christmas and he probably wouldn't have remembered given how chaotic it had been that day.

"Alright then."

"I don't think any of us will really want to sing," he said as a growl of a large beast could be heard. Well, it sounded like more than one. Quickly, Harry put the flute to his lips and played just a few simple notes. It wasn't a song really, and it wasn't something Ron would listen too over and over again, but it seemed to do the trick as the growling seemed to vanish entirely, only to be replaced by deep breathing. Harry slipped in first, followed by Hermione, both of whom had already seen the beast. Ron followed after, holding the invisibility cloak in his arms.

"Whoa," he said staring at the largest sleeping dog he had ever seen, "That's a big puppy."

"Ronald," Hermione hissed, "That is most certainly _not_ a puppy."

"All dogs are puppies Mione," he said with a serious tone of voice.

Harry loudly tapped his foot on the ground to get their attention. Ron turned his head and saw Harry nudge the Cerberus's foot, indicating that that was the location of the trapdoor. The entrance towards the Philosopher's stone. Ron wasted no time in pushing the foot off to the best of his ability. He did note though, that the fur was really soft and he would so want to pet the Cerberus later. That, and it really did seem to live up the name, Fluffy.

He and Hermione lifted the trap door and saw nothing but darkness.

"So... who'll go first?" Hermione asked warily. Harry tapped his foot again getting their attention. It took them a moment to understand what he was trying to say.

"You want to go first?" Ron asked. Harry bobbed his head. Ron shook his head.

"I'll go first. This'll be like going through the vents again. I know how to land safely. Or at least, safer than you two."

"Ron-"

"It'll be fine Mione. I'll call up once I hit bottom. If you can't hear me... Go get help?"

"Ronald!"

"It's a bad idea Mione. But it's the best bad idea we've got!"

With that, he jumped down the trapdoor before Hermione could say anything more. He heard her yell after him about how he was being an idiot. But he focused on the tunnel, having his legs slightly bent and relaxed to try and avoid breaking anything.

He was more than a little surprised to find he landed, not on hard stone, but something softer. Something springy.

"It's okay you two!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, "The landing is soft!"

Soon, Harry appeared followed by Hermione, all of them landing in a low light location.

"What the-?"

"Amazing, that must've been a mile drop at least!" Hermione said. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Not quite, but the first time can be a bit off putting. Felt more like a hundred meters or so."

"And how would you know that?"

"Vents with my dad. There were some wild drops. Had a broken leg once because of one."

"Um guys," Harry broke in. His eyes were wide and he was trying to stand up, only-

"What is that?" Ron yelled, concern ebbing through. His legs were covered in what looked like thick and dark green vines. In fact, so were his and Hermione's legs. Ron began to struggle as recognition sparked in Hermione's eyes.

"Guys, this is Devil's Snare," she said clearly.

"Devil's what?" Ron snapped, a bit distressed.

"Really? We learned about it Herbology."

"So what do you know?" Harry pleaded.

"Um, uh. Devil's Snare likes dark and damp places. And oh! We need to relax."

"Relax? This plant is trying to kill us!" Ron hissed. Hermione remained as still as she could as she explained.

"Devil's Snare acts like a Venus Fly trap. It's movement that lets it know we're here. We'll be dropped if we can relax."

Ron stared at her in disbelief. He screamed when she seemed to disappear into the mass of vines. Tears pricked at his eyes. This couldn't be how they would go.

He looked desperatly over to Harry who seemed to be holding his breath, staying as still as possible before disappearing as well. Ron cried out for his friends, flailing desperatly trying to break loose. To get to where they were and drag them away from the entanglement of vines his mind imagined them being trapped in. He couldn't let them get hurt. He couldn't lose his friends.

The vines tightened around his body, inch by inch he was being wrapped up. From his hands, to his own mouth, he never stopped struggling. He had to make it to them. He just had to.

Suddenly, a bright light seemed to burst between the vines from below. He could feel the vines thrash violently as he was suddenly dropped. His back side landing, not on more vines, but cold stone floors. He took in deep gasping breaths and looked upward to see Harry and Hermione looking over him, a bit worried.

"Are you alright?"

"As I'll ever be. What happened?"

"You paniced. Thankfully Hermione paid attention in Herbology."

"And thank you for reminding me I'm a witch."

Ron looked at the two confused.

"You two are giving me the full story later," he said.

"Can do," Hermione agreed. The three continued down a narrow hall when a strange noise came to their attention.

"Do you guys hear that?" Ron asked.

"I did. It sounds kind of like... _wings."_

* * *

"Come on Bruce. It'll be great. You and me in Europe," Clint began with a smug grin on his face.

"You seem rather excited."

"Why wouldn't I be? It's almost time for Ron to come home," he said with no hidden happiness. Rather than a cocky smirk, he actually had a smile on his face. Much like he did around Christmas with all the gifts, "Him and Hermione will no doubt have a lot of stories to share."

Bruce sipped at his tea, not wanting to really talk. Clint could respect it. He was a quiet man with some rather extreme anger issues. Still, he could only imagine Bruce's own anxiousness awaiting the return of his family member and ward.

 **And another chapter. I hope you guys noticed and enjoyed the jabs I have made at myself for things like forgetting to mention the flute on Christmas. Whoops!**

 **Anyway, this was so not planned to be ready now. But the floodgates were opened. You can all thank my beta-ish sister Mysticarts for this onslaught. She made me get the last chapter ready and by extention, this one came out violently. It would not leave me alone. I think it was waiting in the shadows. Now isn't that just the slightest bit terrifying. Anyway... just like the last chapter, I do hope you all review and let me know what is on your mind with the holiday rush upon us.**


	29. One checkered chance

Ron wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting. Wings could mean anything. Especially in a world with mutants, magic and supposed gods and such. And yet, what could simple flying creatures do to prevent them from going onward.

Unless it was a dragon. Then Ron was sure they'd all hightail it out of there. Because he was sure that nothing was going to get passed a freaking dragon. Although, Neville did mention that owning one was technically illegal. Technically.

He felt slightly reassured by that as they braved the next room only to see a door. Ron looked over at Hermione and Harry a bit confused.

"Does this seem a bit... I don't know... off?" Ron asked. He noticed Hermione was looking upward, not answering. He followed her gaze and saw what seemed to be birds flying lazily around the room.

"Are- are those keys?" Harry questioned. Ron narrowed his eyes and saw a faint glimmering effect from up above. A thin almost gossamer material with something far more solid between that did in fact appear to be keys.

"You think one of those would unlock the door?"

"It would make sense," Hermione muttered walking over to the door. She jiggled the handle to find it locked. She them pulled out her wand and recited the Alhomora spell. However, unlike the door to see Fluffy, this one did not open quite as easily. So they would need a key. Damn. He looked at the key hole and... he had no idea what he was supposed to do. This was nothing like living on the Helicarrier, or in Tony's tower. They didn't have keys like this. And despite being Hogwarts for a while, he had never really needed a key in the school. He was well out of his depth. All he could guess was that the keys color would have to match the knob and the keyhole. So, something silvery?

"We're looking for an older, possibly Victorian styled key. Silver in color," Hermione said looking over the door handle as well.

"Mione, how would you know that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "My- I learned a lot in the old house I lived in."

There was evident pain in her voice, referring to her parents' house. Ron knew her parents were dead, but it wasn't like he often thought about it. It was just a fact he had rather than the tragedy in his eyes.

"So we're looking for a key, silver in color?" Harry asked.

"Well, there's only who knows how many silver keys up there. How hard can it be?"

The three watched the keys, unsure which one would be their key out.

"Wait, does that key have a crumpled wing?" Harry muttered to himself. Ron and Hermione looked at him, then followed his gaze. Sure enough, there was one key that was different, its flight clearly less smooth than the others. Almost as if someone had jammed it rather roughly into a keyhole...

"I might not know too much about keys, but I'm willing to bet that it's the one we need. Now we just need a way... to... Okay why are there brooms here?" Ron asked looking over at the wall to see two older brooms leaning against the wall.

"To get the keys," Harry said walking over. He firmly grabbed one of the brooms and proceeded to mount it. Ron raised a brow in confusion. Harry took off to the upper level and began chasing the key. Hermione yelped when all the other keys began chasing Harry in the air.

"Oh man," Ron gulped, quickly grabbing the second broom. He mounted the broom and took to the air. While not as fast as Harry, he was able to knock a few of the keys away. He hissed as his hands got cut from the keys. A few began to swarm him cutting his cheek and pushing him off his broom. He yelped and landed on his arm as Harry grabbed the key with the lame wing. He flew passed Hermione tossing her the key.

She grabbed it and helped Ron to his feet. She shoved the key into the hole and unlocked the door.

"Come on Harry!" Hermione called out. Harry didn't waste any time as he flew out of the room. Ron shoved the door shut, making them all wince as they heard the crashing of many metal objects assaulting the door.

"That sounds painful," Ron commented. His eyes drifted onto the broom, still held in Harry's hand.

"I really hope we don't need that," Ron commented dryly.

"At least we have something else to help us," Hermione responded. Ron didn't disagree.

Who knew when a magical flying broom would come in handy?

With that, the three continued onward.

It didn't take them long to find, what a surprise, another room. This one held an awful stench, truly the smell of nightmares. Whatever it was, it made the slobbering three headed dog up in the castle smell like a basket of daisies.

They each did their best to hold their breath as they entered the space. On the ground was a large humanoid shaped beast with a club by it's side. For all intents and purposes, it wasn't awake. Whether it was alive or dead, none of them were too keen to find out.

"Troll," Hermione said breathlessly as well as disgusted. Ron stared at it in horror. Surely this was not the same one that was found in the Girl's bathroom was it?

"Let's go. Before it wakes up," Harry stated, seeming to take the smell a bit better than either Ron or Hermione.

The three scurried out of the room, all silently thankful that they didn't have to face off against a troll. Clearly, Professor Quirrel had out done himself. Or well, did he? The beast seemed to have been conquered. Because despite it not being awake, it was clearly not sleeping.

The exhaustion was building in all of them as well as nerves. It was late, the walking they were doing was immense, and the adrenaline from Fluffy, the Devil's Snare and the keys was starting to dissipate. But they carried on, not sure of what awaited, other than the hidden stone they were sure was to be stolen that very night. The next room screamed that it was different from all the other rooms they had been in.

Nothing living, or moving was inside. There was only statues. and a checkered pattern on the floor. The statues alligned far too similar to chess pieces to be coincidence.

"Wait," Ron said before they could move too far into the room. Harry and Hermione looked at him curiously. He looked back at them and said, "I don't think we should walk on the checkered tile. We might trigger something."

"Trigger something? Like what?" Hermione asked.

"Mione, this looks like a giant chess set. What do you think will happen?"

"We could be forced to start a game," she realized. Harry's green eyes locked onto Ron's blue in understanding.

"Then let's try to walk around."

Ron led them as they inched their way over to what appeared to be a cement graveyard. Pieces of statue seemed to be astrewn across the floor in nonbloody carnage. It was a bit unsettling to have the broken stone faces staring back at you, seeming to silently judge what decision you are about to make. But they made it to the edge of the white pieces when the pawn on the board drew it's sword. Blocking the path, merely an inch or so in front of Ron. Ron swore he saw a dark gleam in the stone eyes. He made a move to step over the blade, only for it to be raised.

He had a feeling it would lower just as quickly if he tried to go under. And while the ceiling may have been tall, it seemed as though the pieced could easily reach every nook and cranny with their weapons so that left the broom out.

"We have to play," Ron realized. He turned around, using his thin body to slip past Harry and Hermione and make his way back to the black pieces. He looked over each of them carefully. Harry and Hermione quickly followed when Ron belted out.

"Excuse me! Do we have to play as you?" he asked. The black king turned to face Ron. A simple nod answered him rather clearly. Ron bit his lip and looked over the pieces.

"Harry!" he called out, "You take the place of that bishop," he ordered. Harry didn't waste anytime, and neither did the piece. Harry stood as tall as he could in an effort to see the rest of the board.

"Hermione. You take the rook."

"I'm sorry the what?"

"The rook," Ron said with all seriousness, "Harry. Help me out here."

Harry just looked as confused as Hermione.

"Oh come on you guys. The rook. Only can move in straight lines left-right, forward-backward?"

"You mean the castle?"

"I think I know what a rook is Hermione."

"It's a castle Ronald."

"Oh fine. Over here, sure. But where I come from, we call it a _rook._ Now would you please Mione?"

"And what will you be?" she asked as she took her place where the stone rook once stood. Ron looked at all the pieces. He could take the king. The most guarded piece. He could be the Queen, the inevitable target to kill before the king, one to fear. He could be like Hermione or Harry, a rook or a bishop. He knew he wasn't going to take a pawn position. That was clear suicide if the blade on the pawn was any indication. Although, the best vantage point to see everything would be up high.

"I'll be a knight," he said looking at the piece. The soldier stepped down from the horse piece and Ron clammered on. He was amawed by what he saw. The entire board was his to play with. "Now guys, don't take offense, but I think I should be the one to play."

"Really Ronald? We can all put in input," Hermione commented. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Mione, I played a lot back home in America. I know the game. And unlike you, I can kind of see the entire board from up here."

"What now?" Harry asked, cutting off any more bickering between the two of them.

"Well. White goes first," Ron stated. Sure enough, one of the pawns moved two spaces forward.

"Ron, do you think this is anything like Wizard's chess?"

"Well, we're about to find out. You! Pawn! Right there," Ron called out pointing at a pawn, "Two spaces forward."

"Ronald, it has a grid to follow. I thought you could play better."

"Mione! I know the game. Not the grid name perhaps but I know the game!"

"It's still not moving," Hermione pointed out. Ron paled slightly.

"Pawn. I need you to move," he said again, only this time, there was a response from the pieces.

"Pawn to E4," in what seemed to be a slightly annoyed tone. If stone could sound annoyed. Honestly, Ron didn't even know they could talk.

It was only when the words were spoken though, that the pawn moved. Faster than Ron could prepare, the other pawn destroyed the pawn he had sent forward, taking its' place as was its' right.

"Guys, I think this is _exactly_ like Wizard's chess."

The game, Ron had to admit, was downright brutal. Each piece lost was terrifying as the white pieces showed absolutely no mercy. And Ron had to lose more than a few good pieces to keep Harry and Hermione safe. He wasn't used to being down, essentially a rook and a bishop, not able to sacrifice either of them.

As the game continued, he realized he saw the path to victory. Though... it would be painful.

"Harry. Listen, I'm going to make a move. Then the queen will move. Once that happens I need you to move diagonally to that square there," he said gesturing to the spot that would put the king in checkmate.

"Ron? What are you doing?"

"I'm winning the game," he said with a slight quiver in his voice. He tapped the side of the horse and it began to move into position. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Wait! Ron!" she called out, paralyzed in fear. Ron looked at the Queen in defiance. The Queen began to move forward, inching closer to him and promising a world of pain. His hand held the sleeve of his shirt, gripping it tightly and hoping he wouldn't get hurt too badly.

" _Tendicula Parma,_ " he whispered the familiar protection spell. Though it wasn't a jar, and he didn't have his gloves, the words brought him comfort and he almost felt protected when the Queen's sword slashed the horse and sent him flying.

He felt the cold floor for only a moment, shadows and fire dancing around the broken stone before his vision turned black and he was cut off from consciousness.

 **Okay, a little chess thing here. The castle, was always referred to as a rook in my home town. I think it might be an American thing so I am rolling with it. Anyone else call it a rook? Or is it just my home town? Either way, Castle, rook, same piece.**

 **As for this being similar to the book, well... (Skip following paragraph if you want to avoid inevitable ranting)**

 **I am trying make realistic changes within both the worlds considering what is going on. It's kind of hard when hindsight, I know what happens in both the books and the movies. I know that it seems a bit dull, and very much like a retelling. But it's just how I fell the story should progress. Does it take a lot from the books? Absolutely. I will never deny that. However, I can't say I would be doing the story and challenge justice if I changed everything for one little event. The event wouldn't have effected everyone, the differences therefore can be more subtle. Hence, the glaring similarities to the book. Believe it or not, I do have many things planned that diverge and I have divereged areas of the story where it made sense. Perhaps you might have chosen something else. And that's just fine. It's just a thought.**

 **Sorry about that. But it has been something bugging me for a while now.**

 **Anyway, things have ended just a wee bit nasty. Poor Ron.**


	30. The alarm

Minerva McGonagal had been sleeping rather soundly. Key word, _had._

She wasn't much of a light sleeper, but she would wake when she felt an alarm go off. Not a loud one, more of a magical gut feeling. It was not a good sign. She slipped out of her bed, clad in a grey, long night gown and grabbed her wand. Mummering a spell, she could tell someone had triggered one of her wards.

Her fatigue seemed to disappear entirely when she realized which one it was. As though a dementer had entered the room, a chill filled her being.

She rushed out of her room with the strength of a storm and the control known from her profession.

Someone had passed hert chess set. And set off the alarm.

Any of the teachers would have noticed her alarm system so as not to worry her about false alarms when checking on any certain restriction in place to protect the stone.

And with her set being further along... a sense of dread clawed in her stomach.

The stone should be safe. But her alarm wouldn't sound for nothing. Especially since her little layer of protection was only followed by Serverus's and Dumbldore's.

It didn't take her long to reach the door where she knew Hagrid's Cerberus lay, hearing its wild growling erupt into ferocious barking. She narrowly avoided having the door flown open in her face as one Hermione Granger crashed to the ground, a broom between had been between her legs, skidding across the floor when she crashed, and Ronald Weasley-Barton, unmoving on her back. McGonagal's nostrils flared as she recognized the two first year students, but she reigned in her disbelief and her rightous anger, in favor of taking care of a clearly distraught Hermione, and a possibly unconcious Ronald.

"Miss Granger," she spoke in an angered and slightly breathless tone, "What on earth... is going on here?"

Hermione looked up at her head of house with exhaustion and worry plainly obvious in here teary eyes threatening to spill out.

"Ron's hurt."

McGonagal's eyes softened and approached the two. She helped Ron off of Hermione, and saw he was in fact unconcious. She looked Hermione in the eye. "How did he get hurt?"

"The- The chess set," Hermione stated, blinking away her tears surprisingly well for a twelve year old girl. She relied on logic she often had seen the young witch use in class.

And with that notion, she could guess that while she had most likely beaten her chess set, Ronald had gotten hurt. An oversight most likely in an effort to win.

"Come with me to the infirmary."

With a wave of her wand, a glowing slivery feline appeared, and rushed off. With a second wave, she levitated Ronald off the ground.

"What was that?" Hermione's curiousity getting the better of her. McGonagal knew she was asking about the Patronus. But considering she had been in the Forbidden Third Floor Corridor...

"Now is hardly the time Miss Granger. Nor will it be what we're talking about when we sit to discuss what has transpired here tonight."

Hermione's head dropped in shame. She did follow McGonagal and Ron's unconsious body to the Hospital wing only to find Madam Pomfrey waiting in annoyance and alarm.

"And here I thought I wouldn't have to worry about any more injuries outside of Quiditch." Pomfrey was quick in taking Ron to a bed and began her examination.

McGonagal turned to Hermione who was solely focused on her pale red haired friend.

"I assure you Miss Granger, Mister Weasley-Barton will be fine."

"You bet he will," Pomfrey added, "Nothing too serious. Just rattled his head a bit. He should be up in the morning and leaving here as soon Professor McGonagal talks to him."

Pomfrey looked at the Lioness of Gryffindor with a knowing expression.

"Indeed."

"Can I stay here?" Hermione asked.

"He will be fine Miss Granger. You and I however need to have a talk. As it is, you should still be in bed."

 **It's a shorter one but it is Christmas so... it's something...**


	31. Rude awakening

Fred and George woke up early in eager excitement.

With no more exams to worry about, and summer fast approaching, it was one of the best times to prank their ever rule bound and stubborn brother Percy.

Well, any time was really a good time to prank their brother. But they knew that after exams, there was less chance for points being lost and a higher chance for Percy to act like he did at home. Despite being the hardnosed Prefect and high achiever, he had his moments of quiet mischief. It was a little inspiring when they could actually get him to pull a prank with the sheer intense setup, even if it was on them.

It gave good inspiration to the joke shop they talked about opening one day. But their ideas were clearly better. At least in their mind.

With this in mind, the twin terrors made their way to the common room in order to begin the preporation for their prank. Just a few exploding dungbeetles, some color changing charms for the same delightful green hair that Fred had sported earlier in the year.

Simple, was often the best way to prank Percy with his attention to small details and elaborate set ups that the twins would perform throughout the year to be the talk of the school.

"So we charm the fi- UMP!" George had been talking when he tripped over something bigger than a misplaced rug. Fred laughed seeing his brother trip, as he descending the stairs.

"Tripping on air? Actually, that would be a real fun prank," Fred mused thinking of what it would take to create the same effect.

"Did not. I didn't trip on air," George grumbled as he pulled his face off the stoned floor of the castle. He glared back at whatever he tripped over to see a set of legs. He practically jumped. He scooted back a bit and turned around. His air and spit went down the air pipe and he choked.

"Oh Merlin," he coughed out. Lying on the ground was a rather _stiff_ body. Unmoving and just... _Lying there._ He stood up, keeping distance until he could get a good look at the person's face.

Confused light brown eyes met worried darker brown as he recognized the body being Neville Longbottom.

"Neville?"

"Oy!" Fred called out, "What's this about- Neville!" he called out as he turned the corner of the couch Neville had been behind to see the prone first year. Neville's eyes darted over to Fred.

"Full body bind?"

"Is that what- Oh right. You can't talk if you're in a full body bind," Fred ended up muttering the last part.

"Then just use the counter-curse. Merlin knows we've heard it enough times from Mum."

The two recalled her having to use it on Bill and Charlie when they decided they wanted to practice "dueling". Truly, the fact it had been their go-to spell at the time meant they heard the counter curse quite a bit. Pulling out the wand, he gave it a quick swish and flick.

"Formi Eskapon."

Neville's body went from a rigid log to a bit of a pancake on the floor as he took in deep breaths. He sat up and grimaced at how stiff and sore his body was from being on the floor for who knew how long. His mouth parted very similarly to a gaping fish as his face began to relax.

He blinked his eyes, tired and worried.

"Fred- George!" He gasped out, his stiffness not nearly as bad as his worry as he forced himself to sit up, looking the twins in the eyes.

"Easy there Neville."

"Yeah. You're fine. Or at least better than when Charlie tried to teach you how to fly a broom when you visited right?"

Neville ignored the small jab of his disastrous lesson the elder Weasley tried to give him when he was much younger.

"Ron-"

"Now, now. You had our names right the first time," Fred joked looking slightly worried. Neville usually didn't flub up names outside of mixing up the twins.

"No! It's Ron! He and Harry and Hermione left last night-"

"Left? Neville? What are you talking about?" Fred questions as concern appeared on his face.

The prank on Percy evaporated from both the Weasley Twins' minds.

"The third floor corridor. They were going after-"

"Let's go!" George cut him off. The twins began running out of their common room and into the stone halls of the castle.

"Wait up!" Neville called out, chasing after the longer legged boys. Despite his stiffness and fatigue, his worry kept him at least able to see the Weasley twins. If just a little, what with the lack of cooperative stair cases, leading them away from the third floor corridor more often then not.

It meant it was little surprise when they ran into Filch.

"Students out after curfew," he said with a sneer. Ms. Norris hissed at the three, standing comfortably by Filch's side.

"We like to think of it as getting an early start," George quipped out of instinct. Three years in the castle and he always felt he had to have a comment ready whenever the moment presented itself with Filch. Filch hardly seemed amused.

"Come with me you three. I'm sure Professor McGonnagal will want to know about this," he commented with a dark lit to his voice.

"But we need to-" Fred attempted.

"You need nothing more than your due punishment. Being up after hours," he growled, leading the three away from the third floor corridor.

The twins debated making a run, but decided against it. At least they Professor McGonnagal would listen and do something about their brother being down there. With that in mind, they stayed right on Filch's heels with Neville not far behind.

They didn't even question when he didn't take them to her office (a place they were more than familiar with), possibly to go directly to where ever it was she slept.

Filch however brought them into the Medical Wing much to the three's confusion.

"Madam Pomfrey? Is Professor McGonnagal still here?"

"What in Merlin's name- She is still here Filch. What do you need from her? She's busy with another student."

Fred and George's blood went cold. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be-"

"Is she with Harry, Ron and Hermione?" Neville asked.

Pomfrey looked at the shy first year with slight horror on her face.

"Mr. Potter was with them?"

"So our brother is here?" George responded back with slight fear in his voice as he looked from bed to bed, half hoping to see his brother in one of the beds, half hoping he wasn't in one and unharmed. He didn't receive an answer really as Madam Pomfrey made her way to another door and knocked furiously.

 **Wait. Didn't I update already today?**


	32. Of worried woes

Minerva McGonagal was a more than a little miffed with the chaos from her young lions. Hermione had been trying to organize her thoughts and tell her what exactly had occured. Fear clearly gripped her as her eyes kept wandering over to the door that led to where Ron was unconscious, laying under sheets in the hospital wing.

"Are you ready to explain what you two were doing?" She asked in a worried but exasperated tone. She didn't want anyone hurt, but these children were giving her gray hairs rather quickly.

"Professor McGonagal!" a voice called out before Hermione could even open her mouth.

"What is it Pomfrey?" McGonagal asked slightly restraining the irritation of being interrupted.

The door opened slightly, revealing a tired and rather sullen faced Madam Pomfrey with three boys behind her that McGonagal recognized all too well.

"Mssrs Weasley, Mister Longbottom?" She questioned. While not too terribly surprised about the twins, with their habit of finding out things they shouldn't or being in places they didn't belong, she was more surprised to see Neville with them looking incredibly worried.

"Professor McGonagall-!"

"Where's Ron-?"

Knowing how this would most likely go with the fast speaking twins she cast silencio on the two, before turning to Neville.

"Mister Longbottom, just what in Merlin's name is going on?"

Neville looked over to McGonagall and then Hermione. He took in a deep breathe.

"Harry Ron and Hermione went to check on the stone," he spoke with a slight quiver in his voice. He didn't want his friends to get in trouble, but he'd much rather have them safe.

McGonagall had figured as much with Ron and Hermione flying out of the corridor. But she had not seen Harry with them. Her skin paled in realization.

"Stay here," she demanded. With speed rivaling a seeker, she bolted from the room past the students to retrieve a hopefully still well Harry Potter. Or at least, as well as one could be. Clearly they made it past her chess set, but what of Severus's test? His was hardly magic based and blatantly stated one could drink to his own demise.

No. She couldn't think like that. She needed to get to him. She would fight to make sure none of her lions perished on her watch.

* * *

Clint couldn't help but count down the days until Ron was out of school. It may have seemed silly, but he was missing his son fiercely. And despite the letters he received from Ron via Fred and George's intervention, he had a persistent nagging feeling in gut that something out of his control was happening.

Like when Ron was being chased by the agents of MAGIC for his accidental magic.

He could just feel that something was going on. Or perhaps he was just anxious to see the little boy he raised again.

As it was, he was sure Ron would be excited to see him waiting at the obscure 9 3/4 platform when he was done with the year.

It almost brought a smile to his face. But there was a worry and uneasy feeling he just couldn't shake. Not until he saw Ron safe and sound.

He was probably just being paranoid. It's what he told himself as he made some out of season hot chocolate to soothe his nerves.

* * *

Arthur Weasley was not one to ignore his gut feeling. It had proved to be useful on raids and dealing with any of his children when they were up to something more than a little chaotic, or even his wife when she was in a _mood_.

Though why he was having one in the middle of the night was most troubling. Molly was sleeping soundly next to him and he couldn't hear the telltale creaking of floorboards from Ginny pacing in her room. With a quiet groan, he slid quietly out of bed and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Something to soothe his mind and gut.

He was quick about it, removing the tea kettle from the heat before it could release a shrill whistle that would no doubt wake Molly. He poured the steaming water over the tea bag in his favored mug. He blew lightly across the top and let the tea set while he walked into the main family room. His eyes raked over the room. From the plush chairs to the looming family clock.

Ah, the family clock. Each person in place, exactly where they should. Each face looking at one another just as he remem-

His eyes froze on Ron's baby picture. The innocent eyes looking around, untouched of the world that had changed so much without them. So unlike the emotionally vibrant boy they had met back in August. The disoriented boy he had helped off the ground along with... Mr. Barton.

The man he knew Ron called dad. It hurt a lot more than he ever could have imagined. Never in his wildest nightmares had he ever heard one of his children have another father.

And the most crushing part, he couldn't bring himself to feel hatred to the man. How could he hate the man who his son so clearly loved? Even if he didn't like the man, he had no doubt that he was at least a decent person.

* * *

Professor McGonagall felt a wave of relief as she reached the room with a grand mirror. Coming down to the cool chamber to see Professor Dumbledore casting the levitation spell on the unconscious Harry Potter.

"Professor McGonagall, I didn't expect to see you down here," he said in an unaccusing tone.

"Nor I you. I thought you were on your way to the Ministry."

"It would seem as though, the summons didn't come from the Ministry. Once I had realized this, I returned as quickly as possible. It would seem as though... We will need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher next year."

"I beg you pardon?" McGonagall blurted out in horror at the implication, "Quirnius- He-?"

"Was under a darker influence," he stated, "Now while I do appriciate our little chats, I do believe it can wait a few minutes while we take Mister Potter to Madam Pomfrey."

McGonagall nodded her head and assisted in taking Harry out of the hidden chambers of the third floor corridor.

* * *

Ron moaned as his head pounded fiercely. His arm hurt and his back ached. He took in a few deep, sharp breathes and opened a lone blue eye. He could smell some sort of bitter smell. Some sort of familiar smell he swore he should know. His head feeling slightly elevated on something soft.

"Ron!" A voice called out making his ears ring. Ron clenched his eye shut, then slowly opened them to look at whoever had called out his name.

His vision was hardly focused when he felt a set of arms wrap fiercely around him, then another. Combined warmth made his muscles relax slightly.

"For Merlin's sake, let us know when you're going to do something crazy," the voice said with slight humor in his voice.

"We know crazy Ronnie. We know how to do crazy _safely,_ " an eerily similar voice added.

"Just ask Neville."

There was an embarrassed squeak, no doubt from Neville himself.

Ron opened his eyes slowly, and saw two sets of thin arms, as identical as the voices holding onto him.

"Fred? George?"

"That's right Ron. It's us."

Ron's lips quirked slightly upward for a moment before frowning.

"Wait. Whe-Where's Mione? A-And Harry? Are they alright-?"

"Easy Ron. Easy."

"Madam Pomfrey isn't going to be too happy if you're getting worked up like this."

"Too right I'm not."

The louder voice made the pounding in Ron's head amplify making him cringe in pain.

"Stand back young men," Pomfrey demanded. Ron felt the arms slowly leave his person. He missed the safe warmth as soon as it left. While his head was fuzzy, he could hear her shuffle through potions and cast various spells to no doubt, check his condition.

"Hold still Mister Weasley."

He felt his body stiffen for a moment as cold glass was placed to his lips.

"Take small sips. Do not down it all at once."

Ron lifted his hand and wrapped it around the bottle and her hand holding it steady, and tilted it back. The liquid was thin and sour tasting. His face scrunched up in disgust, but he listened to her instructions. His mind felt more and more clear and his head hurt far less than it had before.

"Good. Now one more."

Ron took the offered bottle in his own hand, recognizing it as the awful mud like potion he took only when dragged to the hospital wing. He took it ready for the terrible taste to taint his mouth, only for it not to be nearly as horrible as he remembered.

His body was still sore but he felt better than he had before. He opened his eyes and saw the world far more clearer. He saw Fred and George wearing concerned but relieved expressions. Neville was standing not too far away next to Hermione who looked truly and utterly exhausted despite being clearly unconscious. But given she was in a chair, Ron was sure she wasn't hurt. But then...

"Where's Harry?"

"He is fine Mister Barton-Weasley," an old an weary voice claimed the room and captivated all the inhabitants in it with his presence, "He, like yourself, is recovering in a bed a bit always off from your dormitory." There was a bright twinkle in his eyes as he told him this, no doubt happy that no one was badly hurt. At least, that's what Ron hoped.

 **So, for those who didn't realize, I had a double update on Christmas. Just a hunch, but I think some people skipped the earlier chapter, not quite realizing it was there.**

 **So, some things happened in this chapter, like worried Minerva As well as working with an injured Ron and both Clint and Arthur.**

 **Also, first chapter for this story released in 2018. So, yay. I guess. Show of reviews, who survived 2017? I think I did if this chapter is any indication.**


	33. Not a seeker

Ron was thrilled to be leaving the Hospital wing as quickly as he was. But he was rather worried that Harry wasn't leaving with him. Still trapped in the confines of unconsciousness, he was shrouded in the Hospital wing until he naturally awoke. And despite finishing finals, they were still required to check in with teachers and were allowed opportunities to discuss grades sans the exam.

That and prepare for the final Quiditch game of the year. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw.

And Harry wasn't yet awake. Dumbledore had been vague, saying that what protected the stone, and who was after it, put too much stress on his body to be woken up so soon.

Hence what was going to be an uncomfortable talk along side Fred and George to tell Wood that Harry wouldn't be playing.

He really wished he was with Hermione and Neville though like he had been during lunch. While he felt safe in his brothers' arms the previous night, now it just felt awkward. The twins on each side going back and forth between various pranking ideas and little secrets of the castle Ron wasn't sure how they learned.

"There you three are," a voice interrupted as Fred was correcting George on something or other prank they were planning to pull. The three stopped and turned in sync with one another.

The person quickly approached much to the twins' annoyance, and to Ron's equal embarrassment and horror. It was Percy.

Ron wasn't sure what Percy was going to do, but had most likely heard that Ron had been in the hospital wing, so it would explain why he'd be looking for them. Or was it that Fred and George pulled a prank on him and he was seeking them out and he was just in the crossfire?

He didn't have time to ponder it as the most analytical Weasley laid his hand gently on his shoulder. His eyes were frantically looking at him as if taking inventory of his entire being.

"Hey Perce-"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Percy's eyes darted to each of the twins before landing back on Ron.

"Ron, please tell me you're alright."

His face was stony, serious and altogether. His arms were stiff and steady as he held Ron in place. But his eyes, his eyes were shining with unspoken worry and concern, unwavering from Ron's own. In that moment he could feel almost feel like he was looking at his Aunt Tasha. A more awkward and definitely more male version of his Aunt. But the stiff worry made him feel better.

"Percy. I'm fine. See?" Ron said gesturing to himself. The twins chuckled at Ron's reassurance.

"I-I do," he said breathlessly, "Now what were you thinking?" He hissed with an authoritive tone. Ron didn't flinch. His Aunt was scarier, but he did feel slightly guilty.

"I was thinking I was helping a friend," he answered trying to keep his voice from wavering. It didn't work out so well as he saw Percy's face soften slightly.

"Ron... I'm glad you're okay," he finally settled on, not sure how to go about talking to his unknown brother.

"I am too," Ron added easily, "I am too."

"Not to be rude Perce but we do have to find Wood."

"You wouldn't happen to know where he would be would you?"

"I would assume by the Quiditch field like he normally is. Why?" Percy asked cautiously.

"We need to let him know that Harry's not going to be able to play the next game."

Percy's eyes clenched shut as if trying to stave away an oncoming headache.

"Well, I'm sure you three can handle that. And Ron, I do expect to see you at dinner tonight."

"I don't miss dinner Percy," Ron spoke with confusion.

"And when Wood is done with you, I'm sure dinner will be the last thing on your mind."

Ron held a confused gaze. He knew Wood wouldn't be happy, but how bad could it be? He he should have known better. Anything can be worse than you imagine. The twins told Wood in a rather comical and energetic way that didn't seem to cushion the blow. In fact, he couldn't seem to calm down, trying to come up with some sort of plan to pull a victory out of losing their seeker.

"Well, it's not like we can just pull anyone. Ron, you're going to play seeker," Wood said with great certainty. Ron's face paled and he blurted out, "I am not!"

"Oh come on Ron-"

"It won't be that bad-"

"What makes any of you think I can play _seeker?_ " Ron squeaked in horror, "I'm not technically on the team anyway. I haven't played a game before and you want me to play seeker? Can't we just ask for it to be postponed?"

Wood turned and stared at Ron as if he had grown a second head.

"One does not postpone Quiditch." There was an unreal serious tone to his voice that slightly scared Ron. In fact, the whole interaction made him feel like he had lost his appetite in the madness. If it weren't for Percy's comment earlier, he was sure dinner would be the very last thing on his mind.

Even as he was eating however, he told Hermione and Neville the "exciting" news.

"He wants you to _what?"_ Hermione asked with her shock clear as day.

"Play seeker while Harry's out. Apparently, since I've been training with the team because of McGonagall, he thinks I should be able to fill in."

"I thought Harry had to get special permission to play?" Neville added in.

"He did. What do you think Wood's doing right now?"

"Oh."

"He can't do that can he? The game's tomorrow."

"I thought the same thing, but if Quidditch is on the line, I actually think he'd move heaven and earth to save it."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Neville commented sagely.

* * *

Ron really wished Harry was awake. Partially because he was worried with how long he was unconscious. Partially because the rumor mill was spreading wicked stories of what they had heard happen down in the base of the third floor corridor. But at the moment, it was because Ron really didn't want to be playing in front of the school.

But lo and behold, Ron wasn't sure what kind of magic Wook used, but he got Ron all set to play.

"Now remember the plans?"

"Sir yes sir!" The twins said enthusiastically. Ron nodded but felt queasy. Stay out of the way, and catch the shiny golden snitch. _Easy._

Oh who was he kidding, this was going to be a disaster.

Thank goodness Madam Pomfrey was as good as magic when it came to healing.

He didn't really notice what everyone was saying as they walked out onto the field. He vaguely could tell he was mounting his broom with the rest of the team.

Everything was out of focus until Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Then, everything went wild. Ron flew upward above the frantic players like he recalled Harry doing during his first game. He didn't go quite as high though, having him dodge a quaffle now and again. Hitting it at least once with the back of his broom to the Gryfindor chasers. It was the most exciting that happened in the game, second only to when he nearly got hit by a bludger. Of course, Fred and George were quick to send the bludger towards the opposing team so there was that.

Otherwise, the game was an hour and a half of sitting in the air trying to find essentially a fast moving flying golf ball. He had to give Harry some serious respect for being so good at finding the darn thing. It all seemed pointele-

Wait a moment.

His head whipped around to the left and moved as fast as he could, catching a glimpse of something shiny. However, the Ravenclaw seeker had seen what he had seen and was slightly faster. He could almost hear Wood's cries of agony at their loss.

This only cemented what Ron already knew. A seeker, he was not.

 **It's times like this I'm glad the characters aren't able to read my work. At least, not that I'm aware of. Spooky thought. Anyway, Ron has now officially played a game of Quiditch. And Percy! Um... He tried? What can you expect from the most emotionally constipated of the Weasley siblings?**


	34. The grand feast

Despite the loss of the last game of the season and Wood's moodiness stemming from it, Ron felt mostly content.

Mostly.

Harry still had not woken up and the year was almost up. He was close to going home and seeing his dad. Things that elated him, and made him worried.

Everything would be so much better if Harry would wake up. Hermione and Neville tried as well to remain positive. Magic could do such outstanding things, of course he'd be fine. Ron however, felt a niggling nagging feeling souring in his stomach when he thought about it.

Being raised by his dad, he had heard occasional stories from agents gossiping over other agents being brought into the medical ward, and never waking up. He tried not to think about it.

Instead, he had taken to packing up his things and hanging out with Neville and Hermione.

It was a sunny day when things began to look brighter.

"I would love to stand inside of Lady Liberty," Hermione said excitedly. Ron rolled his eyes.

"What's so great about standing inside of a giant woman's head?" Ron questioned.

"It's one of America's greatest visual marvels," Hermione defended.

"Okay. And?"

"It has one of the most amazing views."

"Mione, what can I see in her head that I couldn't from the- well, my old home or Stark tower."

"A different view point," Neville added helpfully, "Mum and I liked seeing it."

"Was it lovely?" Hermione asked Neville.

"Amazing."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Sure it is," he said taking a drink of pumpkin juice. He gave a slight grimace. He may have sort of liked the odd drink, but it also just tasted off.

"Ronald, are you not loving an American staple?" Neville asked, "Why, that's just down right unamerican."

Ron gave Neville a look and playfully shoved him, getting a laugh from his larger friend. It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, " _Boys_."

Ron was about to say something when a noise interrupted him. The sound of a very large door opening up. Ron turned to see the grand doors of the Great Hall open widely. Normally, where many students would enter at a time for meals, instead was a skinny, dark haired, glasses wearing, green eyed Harry Potter. No longer stuck in the hospital wing, a grin blooming across his face. Ron grinned back and nudged Neville who got Hermione's attention.

Unplanned, but certainly not unwelcome, Ron stood with Hermione and Neville and began to run towards their friend. Harry in return ran towards them as well.

If anyone asked, Ron would easily admit that in that moment and the few that followed, it was just the four of them in their own little world. Harry was practically tackled in hugs and Ron could feel a slight prick of tears in his eyes.

"You are so telling us what happened when we get back to the commons," Ron demanded.

"Of course," Harry reassured. With that, the four walked back to the table, fussing over their friend and talking about places they'd love to see, or in Neville's case, had seen. Each of them felt lighter with their little grow together once more. In record time they finished their meal and left to go to the dormitory to discuss what exactly had happened after Harry had walked through the flames guarding the stone.

They were all surprised to hear about Professor Quirell. Although, it did explain the turban. He would have never guessed there was a face there. Nor the fact that the powerful stone they were looking for was hidden behind the crazy mirror. Ron felt his mouth grow dry and his tongue felt fat.

That mirror. What it showed... He would never see it again. Not without the stone. Not that he wanted to of course... It was preposterous anyway.

"Are you saying we had a two faced professor?" Neville dead panned.

"I think I am," Harry commented.

"And it wasn't Snape," Ron added.

"He's still a mean Professor," Neville grumbled as he crossed his arms.

Ron decided not to argue. Snape was hardly a nice Professor, but he could see why with everything in class. He seemed to have the subject that made it so if it could go wrong, it inevitably would.

So it was dropped for the moment as they prepared for their last few days at Hogwarts.

Being mostly packed, the final night came upon them rather quickly. Each and every student walked to the Great Hall for the final feast and to celebrate the final day of the school year. Ron sat next to Harry and Neville with Hermione on the other side of Neville. Across from them was Fred, George and their friend Lee.

Each table was filled to the brim with various foods of British nature of the richest decadence. As tasty as it was, Ron really could have gone for a taco.

"May I have your attention," the sagely old voice of Dumbledore echoed throughout the room quieting everyone far better than any of the teachers could.

"It is now time, to announce the winning House of the House Cup," he called out calmly and clearly, enrapturing everyone's attention. "Now, it has been a long year, with many good times, as well as a few _missteps,_ " he said with his eyes twinkling as he gazed around the room, seeming to land on the Weasley twins a little longer than anyone else, "But alas, like every other year here, it has come to an end. And with that end, the House Cup. In fourth place, with 312 points, Gryfinndor."

There was a slow and melancholic clapping coming from the table of lions at receiving last place among the other houses.

"In third place, with 352 points, Hufflepuff."

There were a few cries of acceptance from the table of badgers Long with slightly more enthusiastic clapping.

"In second place, with 426 points, Ravenclaw."

The cheering grew louder from the table of eagles with those at the Slytherin table looking rather smug.

"And, in first place with 472 points, Slytherin."

The loudest and most controlled clapping Ron had ever heard came from the table of snakes. He also swore he could see a smirk gracing Snape's lips at the teacher's table.

"Yes, yes. Well done Slytherin. However, there are some last minute points, that need to be awarded," he said earning looks of confusion from many of the younger students.

"Charlie mentioned something like this happening before. He does it when people do something beyond needed. Charlie said he awarded points to a group of Hufflepuff students when a storm devestation de the field and they set to fix it," Fred said quickly as George nodded in agreement.

"For Miss Hermione Granger," he spoke clearly as Hermione's eyes widened, "For the use of logic to overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges, I award," he paused for a brief moment, "50 points."

Ron nearly laughed as he saw her face flush a bright red as everyone cheered for her from their table as her points took them out of last place.

"For Mister Harry Potter," he continued after the applause had ended, "For pure love and outstanding courage, 50 points."

Harry gave a sheepish smile as the table cheered once more even though many were unsure what Dumbledore meant.

"For Mister Ronald Barton-Weasley," he added garnering the attention of the school once more, "For the best game of chess, that has been seen in this school for many decades, 50 points."

Ron felt his face heat up and he looked down at his plate trying to ignore the cheers as Gryffindor slipped into second place. He could hear Neville laugh at either his misfortune or out of glee he won points for their house.

"And lastly, it can take great courage to stand up to opponents, but it takes even greater courage to stand against ones friends. For this, I award Neville Longbottom, 20 points."

For a second, one could have dropped a pin and hear it from anywhere in the room. But the following, the hall erupted with cheers at the realization Gryffindor had won the House cup. Ron could feel someone pull him out of his seat, along with his friends. Neville looked especially confused as the twins had jumped the table and picked him up off the ground and began parading him around, their arms looped with his.

Ron felt the infectious joy take over as everyone kept cheering as the banners above them shimmered from green and silver to red and gold. He felt someone ruffle his hair and a laugh erupted from his chest.

He felt fantastic.

 **Standing in dark corner in beta's apartment. Or sitting. Something. Something.**

 **Well, everyone knows what happens after the last feast right? _Right._ **

**Mysticarts: And yes, I actually got to read this before she posted it this time.**

 **This mean I can blame any of my bad grammar and misspellings on you?**

 **Mysticarts: Sunshine, I swear-**

 **I'll take that as a yes.**

 **Mysticarts trying to stop incoming headache: why did I agree to be your beta?**

 **Because I know where you live.**

 **(Gotta love sisters)**

 **Anyway, Review!**

 **Mysticarts: Please do. I enjoy reading the reviews.**

 **They are not for you!**

 **Mysticarts: I don't care. I like them.**

 **That's it. No more Author's notes for you.**


	35. The train ride back

Everything felt surreal. It felt like forever since he had come to the castle. Forever since he had seen his dad.

Now, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding as he began to board the Hogwarts express with his best friends. He was thrilled.

"What a year," Neville sighed as he slumped into the car's seat they had chosen.

"You said it," Ron agreed.

"I still can't believe we won the cup," Hermione smiled brightly plopping next to Neville. Harry followed with a melancholic smile on his face as he took a window seat.

"It was rather nice."

"Rather nice? Did you _see_ how everyone freaked out?" Ron laughed as he sat down, pulling Scabbers out of his pocket to sit on the seat between himself and Harry, "I don't think I've seen anything so wild."

"Not even with your dad?" Neville asked. Ron shook his head.

"Dad tries to keep work life out of home life. Not really effective at it but I more hear about things then see them."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Daily, at worst, I'd see him sparring with my Aunt Tasha getting some mild bodily harm."

"How can you say that with a straight face?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione looked at one another.

"You'd just have to meet her Harry."

"Sounds odd," Neville admitted.

"You just haven't met her Nev."

"Who hasn't met who?"

"Does Ronnie have a girlfriend?" Two devilish red heads asked as they seemed to appear at their compartment.

"Certianly sounds like it," Geroge cheekily tagged on as he slid next to Ron. Ron rolled his eyes as Fred sat down next to Hermione.

"Yes, because I have a crush on my Russian aunt," Ron sarcastically stated.

"Wha-"

"Ew. Ronnie," Fred whined, "That's gross."

"It's your idea."

"Not anymore. So little firsties, anyway, what are all your plans this summer?"

"Um, we just passed our first year."

"With no exams," Hermione grumbled. Ron held back a laugh. Boy had it been a shock to everyone that they got a by. He was sure Hermione was going to scream.

"Right... So we're not first years anymore."

"Ah ah ah! Not quite."

"Not until they send out next year's letters. _Then_ you'll be a second year."

"Til then, you still are little firsties."

"What? No!"

"Sorry you little ones. You must _suffer_!"

The twins cackling was equal parts hilarious and creepy.

Neville and Rin looked at one another, then Harry and Hermione. A silent idea passed along the younger students. Thankfully there were only two twins, and four smaller students were more than enough to tackle the twins in a mock fight. The six were wrestling playfully as the train began to move. They all groaned as they bumped the seats with their heads and limbs. With common sense, they all got back into their seats, Ron picking up Scabbers so he wouldn't accidentally be sat on, and made rather casual small talk as well as exchange addresses with everyone and receive Harry's home phone number despite his seeming reluctance.

Overseas charge maybe? Didn't his dad say something about that once? Or was it his Auntuncle FitzSimmons?

It didn't take long for the trolley to come and Harry to by a cart ton of sweets getting the twins to practically bow at Harry's feet. They exaggeratedly threw their arms over his shoulders and offered their expert joking service anytime he needed them. Ron snorted as he let Scabbers indulge in a few Bertie Botts Every flavor beans.

They were all enjoying the train ride when there was a knock on their door.

"Who is it?" George sang in a falsetto.

"Percy, _Georgina_."

George choked on his spit Fred began to laugh hysterically. Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ron all looked surprised at the reaction as well as the identity of the mysterious knocker. The door opened revealing a slightly bemused Percy with his shiny prefect badge polished and pinned to his chest.

His eyes landed on the candy sterwn about the pit cabin. Hermione flushed and moved to clean up the wrappers when Percy snatched a licorice wand from Fred.

"Oi!"

"It's just a wand. I'm sure you can spare one," he said as he gestured to the candy still left.

None of the younger students knew what to make of Percy's current attitude, never having seen him so relaxed. Granted, he was still rather stiff, but taking candy? Unheard of. Fred and George on the other hand grumbled.

"Really Perce? Really?"

He gave a small smirk before returning to a more professional appearance.

"We will be arriving shortly. Everyone be ready to get off, and stick together until you find who you need to meet up with alright?"

"Sir yes sir!" Fred saluted Percy and hooked arms with Hermione while George looped with Ron. Ron took the que and linked arms with Harry as well. Hermione was nudged slightly before she followed up with Neville.

"Hilarious. See you in a few minutes." And with that, Percy continued onward, leaving the six to clean up and gather their things. Ron immediately slipped Scabbers into his pocket.

In no time, they finally reached the Platform 9 3/4. The platform was packed with eager adults and some small children. Neville was lucky and quickly spotted his mother who he waved eagerly to. A bit further away, Ron could make out Molly and Arthur Wealsey with Ginny Weasley bouncing from one foot to another. There seemed to be a few smartly dressed individuals near them for some reason. Beyond them though, Ron's eyes saw a slightly dirty, thin, yet muscular man in need of a shave standing next to a meek and slightly nervous purple shirt wearing man.

As soon as the train came to a halt, Ron bolted out of the train cabin, and out of the train car ignoring the call behind him as he left his things behind. He was one of the first off the train and wasted no time bolting into the crowd. Without hesitation, he leaped into rapidly opening arms to be strongly embraced by a man who could really use a shower.

"I missed you," Ron said trying to blink back his tears of joy.

"I missed you too Ron."

 **Yes. This is the end. But there is more. Should you decide to take a little trip with me onward? If not, I'll call the Knight Bus to take you wherever you may wish to go.**

 **But if you decide you want to continue onward... Step off the train, to the platform and into a magically enhanced Ford Anglia... to Son of the Archer and the year of egos.**

 **Now, Mysticarts knows a few things I had planned but had decided to scrap with this story as I was writing it. I do not regret the decisions I do not use. The big non regret I chose to share with you, was that I had thought about pairing Phil Coulson with Alice Longbottom. This idea was quickly scrapped obviously and I have had no regrets over this fact.**

 **And for the poll, 15% for the hatred of Molly Weasley, 12% liked just a few of the Weasleys, 9% just liked the twins, 8% undecided, 7% liked them, 7% hated just a few of them, 5% liked Percy, 5% liked Bill, 4% liked Charlie, 4% hated Ginnie, 3% hated Percy, 3% loved the Weasleys, 3% hated the Weasleys, 3% hated the twins, 2% liked Arthur, 1% liked Ginnie, 1% hated Bill, 1% hated Charlie and 0% liked Molly Weasley.**


End file.
